Harry Potter and the Painting of Jörmungandr
by Slytheron
Summary: "All he needed was time. Time to plan and execute a power play the likes of which no one would ever expect of a first year. But for that, he could not afford scrutiny from his peers. Slytherin would not do, that much was obvious. Which begged the question… how could he get himself sorted into the house of the Badger?"
1. The Thornbraths

_Disclaimer: I do not work for J.K. Rowling. I am not associated with J.K. Rowling, nor with Harry Potter, Bloomsbury or anything at all relating to Harry Potter, really. I'm just having fun using another person's world to tell my story, like other Fanfiction writers, as J.K. Rowling is magnanimous enough to let us do. Therefore, please enjoy my story. I do not receive payment for what I write, but your reviews, follows and favourites more than make up for that._

 _\- This chapter has been made possible by the help of my wonderful beta reader N7Krogan -_

 **AN:** Right then, chapter one. I am happy to have gotten this out on the birthday of our illustrious Boy-Who-Lived. It signifies a good start to this story, I would hope. This story is rated T for eventual mild adult language and themes (3rd/4th year and up). I can also tell you that this story is going to be very long. Expect it to be a good couple hundred thousand words long. If that's not your cup of tea, feel free to click away. I won't resent you for it. If it _is,_ however, then welcome. Do settle in and get comfortable. I made this for you, and I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

With that being said, I would like to introduce you to Ruff:

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Ruff is going to be in charge of keeping my scenes all nice and tidy. He'll separate them so you'll be sure to know when you've landed in a different scene. Please take good care of him. Then, without further ado...

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 **HARRY POTTER AND THE PAINTING OF JÖRMUNGANDR**

 **Chapter One: The Thornbraths**

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Tears fell from 9-year-old Harry Potter's face as he fled. He was running away from home as fast as he could, desperate not to get caught. He had just been witness to a particularly nasty bout of anger from Uncle Vernon, before losing it and running out the door. Uncle Vernon would be livid when he got back, but he didn't want to think about it right now.

As he was passing the large, square houses of Magnolia Road, the lights in many of them started to come on. It had been almost dinnertime when young Harry had run away from his Aunt and Uncle, and the evening was falling quickly. A low rumble in the pit of Harry's stomach made him realise what a bad time he'd picked for running away. Leftover bread and stale cheese was not the most appealing meal, but now he wouldn't get anything at all for dinner. He clutched his stomach and let out a small whine as he walked across the pavement.

Suddenly, Harry heard a loud crack, like the sound of a whip. He spun around on the spot, frantically trying to find the source of the noise.

Were those bushes moving? Harry wasn't sure, he might have imagined it. He went closer to inspect them. Slowly — not trying to frighten anything that might or might not be in there. He reached forward to part the leaves with his hand…

"Excuse me," a low voice called out from behind him.

Harry yelped and jumped in surprise. He fell in a heap on the lawn he'd just trespassed on.

"I'm sorry, lad, I didn't mean to frighten you. Let me help you up."

Harry looked up at the new arrival. The man was probably somewhere in his forties, had a hooked nose and slightly curly pepper-and-salt hair to go with his short boxed beard. He looked neither stern nor overly friendly, just curious.

Harry backed up, away from the man, his mind racing. He had to get out of here as soon as possible — if this man told the Dursleys that he had been trespassing…

"Calm down," the man said, apparently realising that Harry was uncomfortable. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Harry wanted to believe the kind man. It didn't look like he was in trouble. Tentatively, he stuck out his hand. The man helped him to his feet, then smiled.

"There we go! Now, if you don't mind telling me, what were you doing on my lawn?"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn't think it would be wise to tell the stranger what he had been doing. He wasn't even sure the man would believe him.

"I— I'm sorry, mister. It won't happen again, sir."

The man laughed a big, hearty chuckle. "You're not in trouble, son."

Harry let out a breath. He wasn't in trouble! His relief must have shown on his face, because the man shook his head.

"Well— if you don't want to tell me then I'd best let you go home." The man looked at his watch. "It's getting a bit late, are your parents not around?"

Harry mumbled something about living with his Aunt and Uncle. The man's expression softened.

"And are you Aunt and Uncle not with you? Surely they don't let you walk around the neighbourhood this late in the evening."

Harry's cheeks flushed a bright red. He didn't want to tell the man he'd run away from home, but…

He shook his head. He'd only just met the man, there was no way a random stranger would help him. But he had been so nice so far…

While Harry was fighting his internal struggle, the man made up his mind. He had been a teacher for a long time now, and the look on Harry's face, as well as his apparent physical well-being, had him worried.

"Listen," he said. "My wife, my daughter and I are about to have dinner. I don't feel comfortable letting you go home all by yourself, so how about you come and have dinner with us instead?"

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not only was he not in trouble, but the man was offering him food? He still wasn't sure if he could completely trust the man, but when his stomach growled again he made up his mind.

"I would like that, sir."

"Well then, I should probably introduce myself. My name is Douglas Thornbrath, but please call me Douglas. And what might your name be?"

"H—Harry. My name is Harry."

"Well then Harry, do you have a way to let your Aunt and Uncle know you won't be home for a while? I don't want them to get worried."

Harry bit back a laugh. "They won't, don't worry."

The man eyed him curiously, before nodding curtly. "Let's head inside, then."

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Douglas led him through the front door and into the living room. It was plain, but in a good way. Whereas the Dursley home was littered with Dudley's broken toys and old photographs hung on every surface, the home he was in now was much more inviting. The mantle had a few knickknacks on it, and pleasant art adorned the walls. It felt like a nice home to live in.

A woman and child were sitting in the living room, cuddled into each other and watching TV. The two looked up as they entered and the woman threw her husband a curious look.

"Honey, this is Harry. I found him outside, wandering around the neighbourhood. I didn't want him to head on home by himself so I asked him if he would like to have dinner with us." He then turned to him. "Harry, I'd like you to meet my wife Jocelyn, and our daughter Elisabeth."

"Hi!" Elisabeth said excitedly.

"Um— hello," he waved back meekly.

Jocelyn stood up and walked over to them. She smiled pleasantly, and Harry instantly relaxed.

"Hello there, Harry. It's nice to meet you. I'm glad my husband was able to find you." She then looked at him a little sternly. "You really shouldn't be wandering around this late, you know."

Harry looked down at his feet in embarrassment. "Yes ma'am."

"Lizzie, darling, would you mind showing Harry the dining room really quick? Your Mum and I need to talk."

"Yessiree!" she responded, and dragged Harry by the hand. He was surprised by the sudden contact, but followed her nonetheless.

Harry could hear whispers from the two adults as they left the room.

 _"Signs of malnourishment—"_

 _"—not there to watch over him?"_

Then the door closed and he and Elisabeth were alone in the dining room. In the middle stood a mid-sized oak dining table with six chairs, two at each end.

"Sometimes we have gram gram and granddad over for dinner, that's why there's so many chairs."

Harry was trying to wrap his head around the fact that he would be seated at that table soon. The Dursleys had never let him sit with them. He couldn't believe the kindness these random people were showing him. It overwhelmed him for a second, until he realised Elisabeth was talking to him.

"—to eat fish and chips tonight. Mum's cooking is amazing, you'll love it! Hey, are you listening?"

"Y—yes, sorry. I'm just a bit overwhelmed, that's all."

The girl looked at him funnily. "You're weird!" she said, but there was no malice in her voice, just playfulness. Harry smiled.

Douglas and Jocelyn chose that moment to join them in the dining room.

"We're back," Jocelyn announced. "Harry, darling, please take a seat anywhere you'd like. Dinner should be ready soon." She left through a side door which, presumably, led to the kitchen. Harry looked around for a second, then sat himself down on one of the chairs. Elisabeth had already taken a seat on the chair across from him.

Douglas chose to sit next to Harry, which he was fine with. He no longer felt any fear for the man, but rather, an intense gratefulness.

Douglas and Elisabeth started chatting about what she'd done at school today, and a couple minutes later, Jocelyn re-entered the dining room. She carried with her two plates full of the most delicious fish and chips Harry had ever seen. Another trip to and back from the kitchen, and everybody had a plate of their own in front of them.

"Dig in, everyone. I hope you enjoy the food." Harry didn't have to be told twice. He positively attacked his food, but made sure not to make a mess. He didn't want to embarrass himself in front of the Thornbraths.

During the meal they talked about all sorts of things. Harry was apparently a year older than Elisabeth, which surprised him as they were about as tall. The Thornbraths asked him questions as well, such as where he lived, what school he went to, and how life was living with his Aunt and Uncle. Harry had trouble answering some of those questions, and Douglas and Jocelyn shot each other meaningful glances on more than one occasion.

The food itself was absolutely delicious. Harry had never tasted something this good before, and at the end of the meal, he had tears in his eyes from the generosity he was being shown.

"Elisabeth, dear, would you mind leaving us and Harry? We need to talk about a few things."

"Yes, daddy," Elisabeth said, and she left the room. When she was gone, the two adults turned to face Harry.

"Harry," Douglas said, noticing the tears in his eyes, "I want you to be honest with us. How are your Aunt and Uncle treating you at home?"

Harry was surprised by the direct question. For a second, he considered not telling them anything. That everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about. But in the end, he couldn't get himself to do it, not after everything they had done for him.

All of it came rushing out. How the Dursleys treated him, how he lived in a cupboard under the stairs, how his cousin Dudley would gang up on him with his friends and bully him, and even how he'd had to academically underperform to keep the Dursleys from getting angry with him over making Dudley look stupid. Somewhere in the conversation, Harry had started crying. Jocelyn had quickly come over and wrapped him in a hug as he continued spilling all of it. Douglas simply watched him, but his expression grew increasingly more dark the more Harry told them about his life. At the end of his story, and more than half an hour later, Douglas stood up, his fists clenched.

"How come the social services were never called on these monsters?" Douglas almost spat the last word.

"I'll go make some hot chocolate," Jocelyn said. "I believe we can all use some."

She threw another quick look at Harry, then stepped out into the kitchen.

"I tried to tell my teachers to call them," Harry said through his tears, "but they would never show up. When I asked them about it later — they said they didn't remember anything, and not to mess around like that!" He turned away.

"Harry, please look at me." Harry dried his tears as best he could and did so.

"What your Aunt and Uncle did and are doing is wrong. A child should never be treated like they are treating you." His voice was shaking, but he continued. "You do not have to worry, because that stops now. I'm going to have a little talk with them tomorrow. I will also have words with that cousin of yours. But it can't just come from them. You will have to start standing up for yourself, and fight back. Can you do that for me, Harry?"

Harry looked the man in the eyes, then nodded. Then Douglas swept him up in a hug, and Harry cried some more.

If someone would ask him years later, this would be the evening he'd refer to where his life had completely diverted from the path it had previously been on, where the Harry he used to be made way for another, new Harry.

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Douglas made good on his promise, like he said he would. The day after their shared dinner, he went over to the Dursleys with Harry and took them aside for a conversation. The Dursleys tried to bluster their way through it, demanded him to get out of their house, tried everything to make him leave. But Douglas warned them that he would contact the authorities if they so much as sneezed in the wrong direction. When the Dursleys found out just how much exactly Douglas knew, they were terrified. There was no way they would risk losing their preciously normal life, nor would they do anything that could place Dudley at risk of living without his parents.

And thus, they obeyed. While they were not kind to him by any stretch of the imagination, they no longer treated Harry like filth, and they no longer kept him from eating his fair share of food. Harry even got Dudley's second bedroom to sleep in.

Harry continued to meet with the Thornbrath family on occasion, where he and Douglas would talk about how the Dursleys were treating him, if he had had enough to eat and how his studies were going. Harry had taken up going to the library in his spare time now that the Dursleys allowed him more freedom, and he'd quickly become one of the best-performing students in his class. He also developed a penchant for standing up to his bullies, and word quickly went around that Harry Potter should not be messed with.

After her parents explained Harry's situation to her, Elisabeth was mortified. They didn't include details, but she knew enough to feel horrible for the poor boy. Therefore, whenever he was over, she made sure to spend some time with him doing things like watching TV and playing outside.

For the first time in his life, Harry was glad. The Thornbraths had done more for him than he could ever hope to imagine, and his life had forever changed for the better because of it.

Which is why it was with such a heavy heart that an eleven-year-old Harry Potter walked up to their front door on a particularly sunny day in August.

When the door opened, Harry was greeted by a squeal of delight. _"Harry!"_

He grinned. "Hi, Lizzie. May I come in?"

"Duhhh!" she said, moving aside to let him pass. Harry entered the living room and Lizzie joined him soon after. Douglas and Jocelyn were already there, watching the news on the television.

"Harry darling, how wonderful to see you!" Jocelyn smiled at him. "Where have you been these past few weeks?"

"I must admit I was getting a little worried myself, son," Douglas said.

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry. I should've sent you a message or something." Then he moved to sit down on the couch across from them, and his face turned serious. "I need to talk to you, actually. All three of you."

"Harry, what's wrong?" Jocelyn asked, while Lizzie also sat herself down.

"I— there is no easy way to say this, but… I'm going away. To a boarding school, out of the country. I probably won't be seeing you until I get back at the end of the year." His face was sad as he told them.

Lizzie's eyes started to water a bit. "You're going… away? But— we've been having so much fun together…"

"I know, but I didn't really have much choice in the matter. I'm sorry I have to tell you like this."

"It's that why you haven't contacted us in the past couple of weeks, dear?"

"Yeah," he said. Truthfully, he had recently gone shopping for his school supplies in Diagon Alley, and proceeded to buy some extra books that explained things like the Hogwarts houses and wizarding etiquette. It was fascinating, and he'd spent most of those weeks reading. But he couldn't very well tell them that, of course.

The lies came easily to him.

"Well, sort of. The Dursleys had to take care of a few things, and they needed me to come with them. They even took me to see the school, and I got to meet some of the Professors."

Douglas' eyebrows raised in surprise at that.

Harry smiled. "I think the Dursleys are just glad to finally get rid of me after all this time."

"When are you leaving?" the Thornbrath patriarch asked.

"Next Sunday," he said sadly.

"Then— this is goodbye?" Lizzie asked.

"For now, yeah. I won't be seeing you for a wh—" that's as far as he got before Lizzie slammed into him and almost hugged him to death. He put her arms around her, and soon after, the two adults joined in on the hug as well. They stood there in silence for a good minute.

Eventually, Harry broke away. "I can't thank you guys enough for everything you have done for me since that one evening two years ago. I believe you guys have made my life immeasurably better and I will be forever grateful to you."

"Harry," Douglas said, "you've been a wonderful presence in our life as well. I do not regret a single thing I've done since then. I'm happy your life has improved so much."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries until eventually, Harry decided it was time to go.

"I'll miss you, Harry," the blonde-haired girl said with tears in her eyes.

Harry smiled a sad smile. "I'll miss you guys too. See you all next year, yeah?"

They all smiled and nodded. They waved him off as he made his way out to the main street, and then he was gone.

It was a bittersweet farewell, and one of the hardest things Harry had ever done.

One week later, he was boarding the train to Hogwarts to start his new life in the Wizarding World.

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	2. Wheels in Motion

_Disclaimer: I do not work for J.K. Rowling. I am not associated with J.K. Rowling, nor with Harry Potter, Bloomsbury or anything at all relating to Harry Potter, really. I'm just having fun using another person's world to tell my story, like other Fanfiction writers, as J.K. Rowling is magnanimous enough to let us do. Therefore, please enjoy my story. I do not receive payment for what I write, but your reviews, follows and favourites more than make up for that._

 _\- This chapter has been made possible by the help of my wonderful beta reader N7Krogan -_

 **AN:** For the people that are interested, I've uploaded a link to this story's cover art on my profile. Thought some of you might like it!

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 **HARRY POTTER** **AND THE PAINTING OF JÖRMUNGANDR**

 **Chapter Two: Wheels in Motion**

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The compartment door slid open. Harry sat up in his little corner next to the window, where he had been dozing off just a second ago.

"Hello there," he said to the red-haired boy standing in the open doorway.

"Er — hi. Would you mind…?" the boy asked, indicating the seat opposite Harry. "Everywhere else is full."

"Sure."

The boy grinned, closed the door and took a seat. Almost as an afterthought, he stretched out his hand. "I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."

"I'm Harry," he said as he took the boy's hand and shook it. "Harry Potter."

 _That_ got the other boy sitting up straight.

 _"Really?"_ he asked. Harry nodded.

Ron stared at him in awe for a few seconds. "Wicked," he grinned. "Do you have the — you know… _the scar?_ "

"Yeah, I do," he said, making no attempt to part his fringe for Ron to see. He stared out the window instead, and pretended not to notice when Ron started fidgeting in the silence that had now fallen between them.

"I guess people ask you that all the time, huh," the redhead said eventually.

"Not really," Harry replied disinterestedly.

"But…" Ron tried to find the words without coming off as rude. "You're famous, right? You're the only person to ever have survived the killing curse."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, or so I've been told."

Ron stared at him with a curious expression. "You don't know much, do you?"

"You wouldn't either if you were raised by muggles."

"Look," Ron said as he splayed his hands in a gesture of reconciliation. "I can tell you all about it. I did grow up with five magical brothers, you know."

He started talking about how it was to be the sixth child, what his brothers had told him of their time at Hogwarts and even what house he expected to be in. Harry slowly started to warm up to the boy as he came to learn more and more about the Wizarding World.

"I'll be in Gryffindor, of course — I better be, or Mum's gonna kill me," he groaned. "What about you, what house do you think you'll be in?"

"I don't know yet," he evaded the question.

"Oh well, I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," Ron said, and he started prattling on about all the different houses.

He reflected on how much the previous two years had changed him. Once he'd finally been able to speak back to the Dursleys, he'd been a lot more open to himself about how he felt. Specifically, about how he felt like making them pay for what they did if he ever got the chance. He briefly wondered how his life might have been had he never met the Thornbraths. He never regretted any second of it, though. They were the best thing that had ever happened to him, even if it did end up making him a little more manipulative toward the Dursleys.

Truth be told, as it was now, Harry was going to get sorted into Slytherin. From Ron's description of the house and its traits, as well as what Harry had read about it at the Dursleys after he'd gone to Diagon Alley, he had no doubts about that.

The thing was, Harry had no intentions of going to Slytherin. People associated Slytherin with cunning and deceit, but also with apparently _every bad person ever,_ including Voldemort. Harry decided he would be a Slytherin-in-disguise, until the time came to reveal his true colours. He had been thinking of plans ever since reading about the four houses, but he would be able to get things done much more easily if nobody ever even expected him.

All he needed was time. Time to plan and execute a power play the likes of which no one would ever expect of a first year. But for that, he could not afford scrutiny from his peers. Slytherin would not do, that much was obvious. Which begged the question… how could he get himself sorted into the house of the Badger?

After thinking it over for a while during a lapse in their conversation, Hufflepuff seemed like the most obvious choice. The house of loyalty, with a focus on hard work and amity. Traits which Harry did actually possess, unlike the almost zealous thrive for learning that Ravenclaw seemed to favour. That one was out, for sure. Gryffindor was another possibility, but it was out for other reasons. By the way Ron spoke, it was the house where troublemaking and rule-breaking were most prevalent. If he wanted to succeed in clever planning, he could not afford to associate with such characteristics, lest the teachers keep too close an eye on him. Yes, Hufflepuff seemed like the best choice. Nobody would suspect anything cunning or malicious from him there.

Or so he thought.

"—next to the kitchens, they say. You could get whatever you want, whenever you want. Sounds like a dream come true, amirite?" Ron grinned.

Harry was about to open his mouth to reply, when an old lady slid open the compartment door. She smiled at the two of them and said, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Ron's face fell, and he muttered something while remaining in his seat. Harry, however, excitedly moved to the door. He looked back at Ron and thought for a moment, before stepping out.

While Harry was making his purchases, Ron pulled out a pre-wrapped sandwich. He frowned, then gave a resigned sigh. As he was opening the package, Harry stepped back in. Ron looked up to see Harry, clearly with difficulty, moving back to his seat with his arms full of all sorts of sweets.

"Blimey, Harry. Hungry, are you?"

Harry was positively starving, but he didn't say anything yet. Instead, he dumped all of the sweets on the seat next to him, then sat down again. As he had entered the compartment he had seen Ron frowning at his sandwich, and he'd came to a quick decision.

"Okay Ron, dig in," he said. He smiled at the sudden look of shock on Ron's face.

"You're serious?" the boy asked, his sandwich halfway toward his mouth.

"Yep. You've told me a lot, and I kind of wanted to pay you back." Ron looked as if he was going to protest, but Harry continued. "Besides, I've never been able to share anything with anyone before."

"Well, if you put it like that…" Ron said, reaching for a chocolate frog.

"Eager, are you?" Harry laughed.

Ron's face broke into a wide grin. "Hey, I'm hungry!" he half-whined, half-laughed. Harry grinned and took a chocolate frog for himself. Any awkwardness between them had been forgotten.

They spent a long time chatting about all kinds of stuff, like Quidditch, Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic, and other things.

A little while later, the door to their compartment was opened once again. This time, a bushy-haired witch stood in the entrance. She inquired about a toad — _who would ever want a toad for a pet? —_ and watched Ron try (and fail) to perform magic. After the three of them introduced themselves, she then tried (and succeeded) to cast a spell of her own, much to the delight of Harry.

"I've never seen magic before!" he said excitedly. "Well, I did see Hagrid turning my cousin's backside into a pig, now that I think about it."

 _"He did what?!"_ Hermione shrieked. That led to Harry describing who Hagrid was, and he recalled his adventure on the night Hagrid came to visit him. The two others were quickly laughing, even though Hermione was trying to look stern.

After his story, Harry asked Hermione about all the kinds of magic she knew.

"Your first spell was good, I'm really impressed!" he gushed, and Hermione's cheeks turned a distinct shade of pink. She looked away.

"Oh, I don't know that many more spells. I've been reading ahead a bit — it's not all that difficult, really." She seemed a little distracted, and Harry could tell.

"Is anything wrong, Hermione?"

"No! Nothing is wrong, it's just…"

"Yeah…?"

Suddenly, Hermione sniffled. Harry and Ron looked at each other in shock.

 _"What did we do?"_ Ron mouthed at him as Hermione put her face in her hands. Harry shrugged at him.

"Hey Hermione, I'm not sure what's wrong, but… I'm sorry if we upset you."

She gave a barely audible chuckle. "Upset me? No, nothing like that…" She looked back up at them. "It's just, you guys are so nice — and, well… I've never really had people be anything but mean to me. I'm just a bit overwhelmed, is all. I'll be fine."

Harry scowled. He knew perfectly well what she was alluding to.

"Listen, I don't know why anyone would ever be mean to you, but that's all in the past now, yeah? We could be your friends, if you'd like."

She looked through her fingers at the both of them. "Really?" she squeaked.

"Well, I for one would be honoured to be your friend," he said, and he meant it. He knew what it felt like to be a loner, and he too had been afraid he would not make any friends at Hogwarts.

"Me too!" Ron blurted.

Hermione beamed at them. Harry smiled.

"See? Even Ron wants to be friends with you."

"Hey!" the boy yelled, and threw a wrapper at his head. Hermione chuckled at their antics and soon, all three of them were laughing.

Harry was glad. On the train ride to Hogwarts he had made not one, but _two_ friends already. _"Take that, Dudley!"_ he secretly thought, smiling.

The three of them spent a while chatting about random things while enjoying more of the sweets Harry had bought. Hermione, interested, eventually took out one of the chocolate frogs lying next to her, before giving a squeal when it leapt out of her hands and out of the window. Harry and Ron just laughed, and after a second, Hermione did too.

"Yeah, they do that," said Ron, smiling. "You have to hold them carefully. Here, let me show you." He proceeded to show her how to handle a chocolate frog, proclaiming you had to exercise the "utmost care!", while Hermione giggled.

While they were doing that, Harry took a look at the card that Hermione had ignored. "Who's Grindelwald?" he asked.

Ron looked up. "He's a real bad dark wizard, he is. About as bad as they come, really. He was before You-Know-Who's time. Terrorised the country for years, before Dumbledore finally put a stop to him. They say it was one of the greatest battles ever seen."

"And he's going to be _our_ Headmaster?" Hermione exclaimed excitedly.

"Sure is. He's a fantastic wizard, rivalling Grindelwald himself in power. Completely bonkers, by the way, but fantastic nonetheless." Harry and Hermione shared a glance.

"Can't wait to see him," Harry said. Hermione just nodded.

They continued devouring the sweets with surprising speed. Hermione eventually took out a book and started reading, while Ron told Harry more about the wonderful sport that was Quidditch.

A little while after that, Hermione excused herself and said she was going to check if "Neville" had found his toad yet. Harry and Ron happily waved goodbye to her after making sure she'd meet up with them later, and she smiled before closing the door, leaving the two boys by themselves. They decided to change into their Hogwarts robes, since they would be arriving soon.

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As the train rode into the station, Harry and Ron were looking for Hermione. It didn't take them too long to find her, as she was looking for them as well. Together, they moved to the exit of the train and stepped onto the platform, where a giant of a man was already waiting for them.

"Hello there, Harry! Mind yer step, there."

"Hello Hagrid." He turned and introduced his friends. "This is Ron, and that's Hermione, by the way. We met on the train. Ron, Hermione, this is Hagrid. He rescued me from the Dursleys," he said, grinning.

For their part, the two were just staring up at the giant figure.

"Nice to meet yeh!" The man bellowed. Ron and Hermione muttered a greeting.

 _"He's the man from the pig-tail story I told you about,"_ Harry said in a stage-whisper. That got all three of them laughing again.

Hagrid's cheeks turned a deep shape of pink. "Yes — well, let's get up ter the castle, shall we? Move along, move along." He herded them towards the boats nearby.

The trip to the school was enchanting. Harry, Ron and Hermione shared a boat with Neville, the one who had lost (and apparently, found) his toad.

"We found him on the toilet," Hermione said.

Neville muttered his thanks to Hermione. "Merlin knows how he got there."

After they exited the boats, and were led into the school by Hagrid, they were greeted by a stern witch in emerald green robes who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, and explained to them that they were about to be sorted, before leaving them waiting in the entrance hall so she could arrange things.

Neville looked like he was about to pee himself. Harry decided he should probably comfort the boy.

"What's up, Neville?"

"I- I'm afraid I'm not going to make it into Gryffindor."

Harry frowned. "Who said you needed to be in Gryffindor?"

"My- my gran did. I live with her. She said I should follow in my dad's footsteps. That that's what he would have wanted."

"Wait. You mean, you have a choice as to what house you'll be in?" The cogs were turning in Harry's mind.

Hermione threw a curious glance at him, though he did not see it.

"Well — not completely," Neville admitted. "I mean, if you're not suited for a house, then you won't be placed there. But if you are, then the Hat — that's the Sorting Hat, by the way, that's how we get sorted — the Hat will take your preference into consideration."

 _"A hat?"_ Harry was about to say, but he stopped himself. Instead, he decided to be firm with the boy.

"Listen here, Neville, I don't care what your grandmother said," Neville looked at him, shocked, but Harry continued. "You're your own person, and as far as I've learned, your house will be like a family to you. If you force yourself into the wrong house, you're going to make a decision you'll regret for your entire life. You should do what _you_ want, not what your grandmother wants."

That seemed to assure Neville a little. "Yeah, I- I guess you're right. Thanks."

Unbeknownst to Harry, his little "speech", if you could call it that, had made an impression on more than Neville alone. A few others at least thought about what he said and how it related to them personally. And thus, without even knowing it, he changed the futures of those few students.

"Don't mention it," he said to Neville, just as Professor McGonagall finally came to fetch them.

She led them into the Great Hall, which was magnificent. Hermione said something to him, but he was too busy admiring everything to hear her. The Great Hall was _huge,_ and filled with students, seated at four long tables, one for each house. Another table was for the teachers, and in the middle, on a large ornate chair, sat Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster.

"Look, Hermione!" Harry said to her. "It's Dumbledore!"

She gasped in awe and came to a stop, now looking at him as well. Professor McGonagall gave them a stern look.

"No dawdling, students," she said, prompting them to get a move on again.

Finally, they reached a small stool with an old, tattered hat on it. Harry reserved judgement, because if it was going to sort them, it was apparently an incredible magical artefact.

That opinion lasted for about all of two seconds, before the Hat burst out in a song welcoming the new students and describing the four houses, which were of course, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. After it ended Harry politely clapped along with the rest of the school, who were clapping like mad. Some of the other first years were just confused, and didn't clap at all.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a large scroll of parchment. "When I call your name," she said, "you will come forward to be sorted."

The list started with "Abbott, Hannah", who went to Hufflepuff. Harry started paying less attention after the first five names to contemplate what Neville had told him before they entered the Great Hall.

While Harry was thinking about his upcoming sorting, Zacharias Smith had made up his mind. After arguing with the Hat that he should not go to Hufflepuff, in spite of most of his family being sorted there, it decided that his selfishness would indeed not be very welcome in Hufflepuff. Instead, after almost two minutes, it loudly proclaimed, "RAVENCLAW!" and Zacharias walked off to the Ravenclaw table with a small smile on his face, taking in the applause his now-Housemates were giving him.

A little while after that, Gregory Goyle sat down on the stool. When the Hat did not immediately yell out "SLYTHERIN!", a certain Draco Malfoy frowned. After twenty more seconds of silence, his frown deepened. A whole minute passed, and Gregory Goyle had still not been sorted. Draco would be sweating for a few minutes more, for three and a half minutes was how long it took the Sorting Hat to finally come to a decision, a decision which Gregory Goyle had made in spite of his loyalty to, and not a bit of fear of, Draco Malfoy, Malfoy's father and his own father.

Even Dumbledore sat up when the hat finally declared his verdict.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat's voice rang out. The shout could be heard by everybody in the hall, including Harry. This was obviously a surprising one, he realised.

 _"NO, THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!"_ A yell cut through the silence.

"Mister Malfoy, I will have your silence!" Professor McGonagall yelled. "Unless you wish to earn a detention in record time, I will ask you to _not_ interrupt the sorting, thank you very much!"

As Malfoy, now stunned silent, looked at the retreating figure of the boy he had grown up with, Gregory Goyle, like Zacharias earlier, wore a melancholy smile while slowly walking toward the Hufflepuff table. The Hufflepuffs in question were stunned silent for a second, not knowing what to do with this new member. But, being Hufflepuffs, they quickly started clapping enthusiastically for their new housemate.

Next up was Hermione, who was content once the Hat finally exclaimed her to be a "GRYFFINDOR!", and she too walked off to her table.

After that, "Daphne Greengrass" went to Slytherin, and Harry went back to daydreaming. He was pretty sure he knew how to convince the Hat by now, he just had to hope it wouldn't scream out his house before even touching his head, as it had with some students.

Neville's sorting went quicker than the boy had anticipated. It only took him a minute to convince the Hat. It posed that by trying to go against its decision, Neville showed exactly those traits that would see him perform well in the house of the bold. Neville countered by asking if the Hat placed everyone who opposed him in Gryffindor. It was quickly convinced soon thereafter, and loudly announced Neville's new home to the hall.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" it shouted. And Neville sagged in relief. He then promptly stood up, flashed Harry a grateful smile, and trotted off to join Goyle and the others.

To the surprise of no one in particular, Ronald Weasley would join the Gryffindors, to great excitement of his brothers. His two twin brother were especially jubilant. But before that was Harry's own sorting, and he had been looking forward to it.

"Harry Potter," Professor McGonagall called, and the Hall broke out in whispers first, and finally silence. Harry slowly walked forward, past Professor McGonagall, and sat down on the stool. As soon as she lowered the Hat onto his head, he made a clear, mental command.

 _"Stop,"_ he thought immediately. He did not want the Hat to utter even a single syllable, as even that would be seen as suspicious.

 _"My, my,"_ a voice in his ear hissed. _"Not even a syllable, you say? Or rather, you think?"_ The hat softly chuckled.

Harry ignored it. _"I know that you will probably want to sort me into Slytherin."_

 _"Indeed. I see no better house for you, though you are not a bad fit for any of them… except perhaps Ravenclaw. But it seems, you do not wish to go there? I must tell you I had already made up my… mind… truth be told."_

 _"I'm here to change your mind, if you give me the chance. I would like to be sorted into Hufflepuff,"_ Harry thought. This was the important part. Could he trick the Sorting Hat? Probably not, but he might be able to convince it.

It chuckled again, more softly this time. _"Do not forget, young Mr Potter, that I can read your thoughts fully. No amount of trickery will deceive this old hat, you can be assured of that. But please, do convince me. What makes you think I would put you with the most loyal and hard-working of students?"_

 _"I have been explained the traits of the four Houses by a friend of me, Ron Weasley. And during his explanation, there was one thing in particular which interested me."_

 _"And what might that be?"_

 _"It seems as though the Houses of Slytherin and Hufflepuff are almost… two sides of the same coin, you could say. Hard work and dedication are two important traits of Hufflepuff. One might say these two translate into ambition, the most valued trait in Slytherin, don't you think?"_

The hat openly laughed at that. The whole Hall heard it, this time. It had been almost two minutes by now, though Harry did not keep track.

 _"I see what you are insinuating, Mr Potter, and you would be correct. This comparison has been made a few times before, in fact. The Houses of Hufflepuff and Slytherin do tend to be similar, both working hard to achieve their goals. One with hard work and obvious effort, and the other with cunning, operating from the shadows."_

 _"Exactly,"_ Harry agreed with the Hat, _"and that means I would fit into both houses, as you have already mentioned. You should know my loyalty is strong enough."_

 _"Hmmm," the Hat murmured back, "while this is true, your Slytherin traits far outweigh your Hufflepuff ones. It is true that I will take your opinion into consideration, but only up to a certain point. You would fit into Slytherin perfectly, and you have yet to convince me otherwise."_

 _"I don't need to, because I agree with that. But perhaps I can convince you of something else."_

 _"Do tell, then. What is it that you wish to convince me of?"_

 _"Could you state for me, in your words, the definition of cunning, another highly valued Slytherin trait, if not equally so?"_

 _"I must say I am intrigued as to where you are going with this. As such, I will humour you. Cunning is the trait of showing skill in achieving one's ends through deceit or evasion."_

Harry chuckled, for he knew he now had the Hat beat. _"A textbook definition, very good. Now tell me, dear Hat, what would be more Slytherin — more cunning, than achieving my ends as a Slytherin, while being placed in Hufflepuff, the last house anybody would expect one such as myself to be in? Would that not be, in your words, the ultimate display of deceit and evasion?"_

The Hat was silent for a few seconds. Then, slowly, it began to laugh. The people not privy to what had happened inside Harry's mind might have thought Harry had told the Hat a particularly funny joke, and indeed, that is what almost everyone thought. But this was not that kind of laugh. The Hat laughed, yes — almost conspiratorially. And Harry thought no more. He did not need to.

 _"You are an interesting wizard, Mr Potter. I shall watch you with great interest."_

Harry would later find out from his housemates just how long he had sat on that stool. Five minutes and eleven seconds, it had been, before the Hat finally exclaimed its decision for all to hear.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

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	3. Slithery Encounters

_Disclaimer: I do not work for J.K. Rowling. I am not associated with J.K. Rowling, nor with Harry Potter, Bloomsbury or anything at all relating to Harry Potter, really. I'm just having fun using another person's world to tell my story, like other Fanfiction writers, as J.K. Rowling is magnanimous enough to let us do. Therefore, please enjoy my story. I do not receive payment for what I write, but your reviews, follows and favourites more than make up for that._

 _\- This chapter has been made possible by the help of my wonderful beta reader N7Krogan -_

 **AN:** For those of you who are wondering just how big this fic is going to be: expect at least 6 years - but I will strive to make it all seven! And yes, I will probably be doing covers for all seven of them. Those will be uploaded on my profile, below the cover art for year one that I already uploaded. Also, as most of you will have noticed by now, I will be adhering to the one-chapter-a-week upload schedule for the foreseeable future. Upload day is Tuesday. I will let you know if anything changes.

For now, enjoy the next chapter!

* * *

 **HARRY POTTER** **AND THE PAINTING OF JÖRMUNGANDR**

 **Chapter Three: Slithery Encounters**

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Harry awoke after having what felt like the best night's sleep of his life.

Harry could hear others talking as he sat up and reached for his glasses on the nightstand. Once he put them on, he saw Justin, Ernie and Neville in the process of getting dressed. Goyle was still asleep.

"—looked at me funnily. I think it's because I'm a muggleborn."

"Don't worry about Malfoy, he was just being a jerk. Most of us really don't care about that blood status nonsense anyway."

"Y-yeah, me neither. Grandmother says that umm… it's mostly dark wizards who worry about that kind of stuff."

"Thank guys, that's good to hear — oh, good morning Harry!" Justin had noticed that he was awake and waved at him.

"Good morning, Justin," he greeted the curly-haired boy. "And you too, Ernie and Neville."

The two greeted him back from across the dorm, though Neville did so a little quietly.

Yesterday evening had been fantastic. He was so ecstatic that he made it into Hufflepuff that he finally let his guard down a little, and just tried to enjoy himself for a while. After Dumbledore made his speech, they dug into the food with glee, and Justin and Ernie started a conversation with him. Pretty soon they were talking animatedly about their trip to Hogwarts.

All in all, it had been a wonderful evening, and he'd slept like a log. This was also why Ernie's next question caused him to smile.

"Did you sleep well, Harry?"

Harry stretched in contentment, before throwing off his bedsheets. "Definitely! I haven't slept this well in ages."

That had the other boy smiling. "Glad to hear it," he said.

Justin turned to Harry and said, "We were just about to head down for breakfast, would you like to join us?"

"Sure, that sounds good. Thanks for asking."

"We're happy to," Ernie replied. "Right, Neville?"

"Huh?" the shy boy gave a start at being directly addressed. "Y-yeah, I don't mind."

Harry frowned at the boy's timidity, then turned to Justin.

"Sorry, but do you mind if a take a shower real quick? I haven't really had the chance, with yesterday being as busy as it was."

"Sure, no problem. We'll meet you in the common room, then."

Ten minutes later, Harry had finished his shower and dried himself off. He made an attempt to fix his hair in front of the mirror.

"Don't worry, it's hopeless."

Harry threw the mirror a dirty look, then exited the bathroom and went down to join his new friends.

Once there, he was greeted by Justin, Ernie and Neville. Goyle was also there, standing somewhat off to the side. He must have come down while Harry was in the shower. The somewhat-sluggish boy was a bit of a mystery to him, but he decided he might as well be nice if he was going to uphold his Hufflepuff facade.

"Good morning, Goyle. Are you joining us for breakfast?" he asked with a smile.

Goyle simply nodded in reply.

" _Not the most outspoken, I guess."_

"Okay, let's go. I'm starving!" Ernie made his way to the common room door, and they quickly followed.

On the way to the Great Hall they were joined by Ron and Hermione, who had just come down from the 7th floor. Ron greeted them loudly.

"Woah, it's the whole lot! Are you starting a Hufflepuff fan club already, Harry?"

Harry grinned at him. "Good morning to you too, Ron."

"Good morning, everyone," said Hermione. The boys returned the greeting. "Did you sleep well, Harry?"

"Like a baby," he told her, with a smile on his face. "How was your trip down?"

Ron groaned. "Don't remind me. My legs still hurt from the journey."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Journey?"

"Well you've got to admit it's a bit of a walk — and don't get me started on the moving staircases."

"They should have, like, an elevator or something," Justin chimed in.

"You're a muggleborn?" Hermione asked him.

"Sure am. I was actually headed for Eton, before I got my letter. Hogwarts was certainly a surprise."

They continued talking amongst themselves while walking, with Ernie and Neville, occasionally contributing to the conversation. Goyle simply stayed silent while he walked.

When they were almost at the Great Hall, someone bumped into Goyle's shoulder as they walked past. It was Draco Malfoy. Crabbe was walking next to him. Harry was about to yell something at the little brat, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"No," Goyle said, as Malfoy and Crabbe slipped inside the Great Hall. "It's fine."

Seeing as it wasn't really any of his business, Harry decided to let it go.

"If you say so," he shrugged, and Goyle released his shoulder.

They stopped at the doors of the Great Hall before entering, and Hermione turned to Harry. "Well, I guess we'll see you later."

"Why don't you come and sit with us?" Ernie asked.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "You can do that?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "In the interest of 'inter-house cooperation' _,_ or something. A prefect told us."

"Oh — well, we should probably still sit with the Gryffindors. At least for the first day, don't you think?"

"Whichever you pick," Ron said, "can we do it quickly? My stomach is going to protest if I don't eat something soon." Ernie vehemently nodded his agreement.

"See you later then, guys," Harry said, and he and the other Hufflepuff boys walked off to their table.

Breakfast was just as magnificent as the Welcoming Feast had been the night before. There were all kinds of dishes, cold as well as warm, and more food than Harry could have ever dreamed of. He decided to compile a classic English style breakfast, and forewent the 'pumpkin juice' — "S _eriously, who came up with this stuff?"_ —for some fresh orange juice instead.

Because Harry was focussed on finally getting a good meal in, Ernie and Justin decided to let him eat and started a conversation about muggle education.

He tuned in to some of the other conversations around him. Neville was talking to a second-year female student about his experience under the Hat.

"It really wanted to put my in Gryffindor for some reason."

"I can see that," the second-year said.

Neville dropped his fork and blushed. "W-wait, really?"

Across from him, a red-haired girl and an upperclassman — a tall, blonde boy with rosy cheeks — were just wrapping a discussion about politics. Well — Harry thought they were talking about politics, anyway. He couldn't understand half of what they were saying.

"Regardless, Auntie says the DMLE has been understaffed for years. You'd think the Wizengamot would care a little about the safety of its citizens, right?"

"You should ask them sometime," the boy said with a smirk, and he stood up.

Just as Harry was nibbling on a delicious pork sausage, he was alerted to a sudden flock of owls flying into the Great Hall.

"Owl post," the red-haired girl told him, as the blonde boy walked off. "They deliver mail and packages every morning."

"I see," Harry replied. "I don't think we've met yet, have we?" He stuck out his hand.

The girl took it and said, "Susan Bones. Pleasure to meet you."

"Harry Potter, and likewise." She just smiled nodded. She had obviously known who he was beforehand.

"My auntie's told me a lot about you!" she said, enthusiastically at first, but then her face turned sad. "It's horrible, though, what happened. You probably don't remember much, do you?"

"No, not really. I remember — a green flash of light, I guess." Susan gasped. "Why, does that mean anything?"

"That's… the colour of the killing curse," she whispered.

Harry's face turned white as a sheet. Susan seemed to realise this was not the best subject to talk about right now.

"I'm sorry — I shouldn't have… Anyway, that's my friend Hannah over there, by the way — Hannah, come over and introduce yourself!"

Hannah, who had been sitting a few seats down, walked up and took a seat next to Susan. Hannah eyed him with interest.

Harry offered his hand, and she quickly took it.

"Harry Potter," he said again.

"I'm Hannah," she told him. "Oh — Hannah Abbot. It's nice to meet you, Harry! I've heard a lot about you."

 _"Of course you have,"_ Harry thought morosely. He tried to not let it bother him, however.

"I think you guys know more about me than I do, by now," he said drily.

"Have you not read any of the books they've written about you?" Susan asked. "Merlin knows there's tons of them out there."

"No, I haven't. I thought it would seem a little — I don't know, pretentious? — to be reading books about myself."

She nodded. "I guess you've got a point. Still, though, you should probably find out a little more, if you can."

"I'll do that, thank you."

They felt silent, and the girls turned to each other to talk about something else.

Right at about the same time, Goyle made his way over to him.

"Good morning," he said to the hulking boy.

"Mind if I take a seat?" the boy grunted.

"Sure," Harry said, and Goyle sat down.

"Malfoy is gonna go spare if he sees me sitting here," the boy muttered under his breath.

"I heard Justin and Ernie talking about him in the dorm this morning. He doesn't really seem like a nice guy."

"He's not."

Just then, as if he'd heard them talking all the way across the Great Hall, the slithery fiend himself approached them at their table. Crabbe was nowhere to be seen. "Speak of the devil," Harry muttered, before addressing him.

"Mr Malfoy," he said with pretend politeness. "What can I do for you?"

"Move along, Potter. I need to speak with Goyle."

"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I listened in. Right, Greg?" He made sure to _expressly_ use his name, and Malfoy didn't miss it. A hint of irritation flickered across his face.

"No, I don't mind," Goyle said.

Malfoy scowled and decided to just ignore Harry. "Goyle, what do you think you're playing at? You were supposed to be in _Slytherin_." He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, and up until yesterday, it had been.

The boy fidgeted uncomfortably. "I don't really want to be your lackey anymore. You just treat me like I'm an idiot."

Malfoy just stared at him, mouth agape, as if not believing Gregory could even be capable of such sophisticated thoughts. He then turned on Harry.

"This is your doing, isn't it, _Potter?"_ he spat the last word, then made as if to draw his wand. Harry wasn't sure what that would accomplish - they hadn't actually learned any spells yet, after all. "You'll pay for this, filthy—"

 _"Mister Malfoy!"_ a shriek interrupted them. Apparently, Professor McGonagall had been watching the interaction and decided to interfere.

"Professor, this _git_ —" Malfoy began, but she interrupted him again.

"Mr Malfoy, return to your table _at once._ You are causing a ruckus. Had I not made myself clear yesterday?" She glared at him.

Malfoy looked between Harry and Professor McGonagall for a few seconds, before he apparently decided it was not worth it to try his luck, and returned to the Slytherin table. But not before casting one more dark look in Harry and Goyle's direction.

 _"You'll pay for this,"_ he hissed, and he stormed off. Harry wasn't sure whether he had been talking to him, or to Goyle. Admittedly, he didn't really care. He turned to Professor McGonagall.

"Thank you, Professor."

"It was of no consequence," she brushed him off. "Nobody talks like that to students in my house."

Harry glanced at Goyle, who just shrugged. "Er — Professor, you know that I'm not actually in your house, right?"

She looked very confused for a second, but then regained her composure. "Indeed," she said. "My apologies. It would appear I am not quite awake yet."

Harry looked at her suspiciously, but her face was inscrutable.

"Very well, students. Do continue with your breakfast," she said, before walking back to the High Table.

Harry watched her leave, wondering what she had been so confused about. He'd have to ask her about it later. In the meantime, however, he turned to Goyle.

"I can see why you don't like him now."

Goyle nodded. "He does that kind of stuff all the time."

"What did you mean when you said you didn't want to be his lackey anymore? I thought you two were friends."

Goyle scoffed. "Friends? No, not really… Me and Crabbe — that's the boy who is following Draco around — we're more like bodyguards."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

Goyle nodded. "It wasn't by choice, we grew up that way. Crabbe's father, and mine as well, are indebted to the Malfoy family. Draco kind of made use of us as he wanted, there wasn't really any friendship there."

Harry stayed silent, opting to just let the boy talk. It seemed like this had been on his mind for a while.

"But I never wanted to be Draco's lackey — I did it because I had to. I'm sure my father is going to be… well — let's just say he's not going to be very happy." Harry frowned, and stored that information away for later.

"So that's why you asked the Hat for Hufflepuff?"

"Yes," Goyle said with a small smile.

"What did the Hat say in reply?"

"It told me that my loyalty lay with Draco, and separating from him now was not a very Hufflepuff thing to do. But I told it that I wanted to make friends, _actual_ friends, on my own terms. And that convinced it, I think."

"Wow," was all he could say. It was an inspiring story, coming from someone who had barely said a word at all until then, never mind to Harry specifically.

"I appreciate you telling me all this, but why are you telling me in particular?"

He shrugged. "You seem like you know what you're doing — somehow. I guess you remind me of him, but you're not a jerk at all."

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely. If he didn't know any better, he'd feel like _he_ was being manipulated into a friendship. And it was working.

"I have never been very bright, you know. I know it's going to be hard for me not to flunk out of school." Harry just looked at him, not sure where he was going with this. Goyle fiddled with his thumbs a bit before he continued. "You know, it was actually you who convinced me to try for Hufflepuff."

That took Harry by surprise. "Huh?"

"Yeah. It was what you said to Longbottom outside the Great Hall that got me thinking about it."

"So you heard that, huh."

Goyle nodded. "I realised that I should think about whether I wanted to be Draco's personal bully my whole life, and I decided that it wasn't worth it. I wanted to make my own way in life."

That was all Harry needed to hear. He felt himself oddly inspired by the boy, and he'd come to a conclusion. "Then I will help you," he said, determined. Goyle looked him in the eye, shocked. "I will help you with your school subjects, from time to time. If, in return, you promise to work your very hardest to make something of yourself. You will show Draco Malfoy that you are notsimply a lugheaded bodyguard, and that he was wrong to have thought of you as such for so long. Can we agree on that?"

Goyle was at a loss for words. For a few seconds, he just stared at Harry.

"You would really do that for someone like me?"

"Definitely."

Then, Goyle practically beamed. "I promise. You will not be disappointed, I swear it. I'm going to work hard to make sure of that."

"Then please, from now on, call me Harry."

"Then please call me Greg," he said with a crooked grin.

Harry laughed. Technically he had already done so — when Malfoy had approached them — but he didn't comment on it.

He did actually intend to help Goyle, he wasn't just being manipulative. Now that he knew the boy's story, he genuinely wanted to befriend him. That did not mean that it was not an outstandingly lucky opportunity, however. Yes, he would definitely make use of this.

Truth be told, Harry had already realised Malfoy could potentially be a big player at Hogwarts, in part due to Goyle's — no, Gregory's confession. The Malfoy family was also pretty well-known, from what he'd heard from his dorm mates the previous evening. He'd have to keep an eye on the little blond-headed brat.

They continued eating their breakfast while discussing mundane things. Neville joined them a little while later, and they started talking about the upcoming day. Harry was looking forward to his classes, and he was already making more plans in his head to reach out to the other houses. First impressions mattered, after all.

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Harry's first lesson was History of Magic, and any notion of having looked forward to today was quickly retracted. It wasn't that the material was all that uninteresting, but their professor, a ghost named "Binns", was just so incredibly dull _._ Harry wasn't even sure their Professor realised that he was a ghost.

After a quick roll call, he seemed to have forgotten the students even existed. After sitting through three quarters of an hour of "No Ernie, I don't know what he just said, I was sleeping too," they quickly fled the classroom.

"I know we don't get to pick electives until 3rd year," Ernie said, as the Hufflepuff boys were walking to their common room for a free period, "but I don't need Divination to predict lots and lotsof sleeping in that class this year."

Harry laughed out loud. "Really though, can Professor Binns get any more boring?"

"Hey, I thought it was interesting," Justin said.

"Yeah, well, you're a nerd." Harry said with a cheeky grin.

"Oi!" Justin shouted, whacking Harry in the back of the head with his notebook. They all laughed.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

Harry was looking forward to Transfiguration. He was a little wary of Professor McGonagall, but she seemed nice enough. Harry thought he ought to be careful not to get on her bad side, though.

She proved him right almost immediately after class started.

"Wands away children, today is only going to be an introductory lesson."

A few people groaned, having been excited to start doing magic, but the wands were put away nonetheless.

Professor McGonagall looked over her notes, then addressed the class.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear before we start. I will accept no nonsense in my classroom. Some teachers might be more lax about this than others, but I will have your undivided attention at all times in this class. Transfiguration is an extremely intricate subject, and any mistakes you make can cost you — _gravely._ If I see anybody fooling around, or not paying attention in general, they may leave and _not come back._ Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor," they said in chorus.

"Good," she said. "Before we begin, I'd like to lay down some rules." She wrote them on the blackboard. "One. Under _no circumstances_ are you to attempt to transfigure yourself or another person. This is _not_ negotiable. If I even see you so much as attempt it, I will personally see to your expulsion. Human Transfiguration is generally perceived as the most difficult branch of Transfiguration, and it is so difficult that you will not even be attempting it before your 6th year. I trust that none of you are stupid enough to think they are the exception to the rule. You have been warned."

That had a few of the students looking back nervously. She certainly knew how to command respect, that much was certain. She was definitely a no-nonsense sort of teacher.

On the one hand, half the class was positively terrified of her by now, but on the other hand, she'd made sure none of them would attempt anything stupid. Harry, meanwhile, had sat up in interest. He was fascinated by the subject already.

She went through a few other rules, mainly regarding the ingestion of transfigured foods and drinks, and imparting on them that not all transfigurations were permanent. After that, she made a start on explaining what they were going to be doing next lesson. They would apparently be transfiguring matchsticks into needles.

At the end of the lesson, Harry was ecstatic. He said as much to Neville, who he'd sat next to.

"Don't you think it's great, Neville? Think of all the possibilities!"

"Y-yes, but I don't think we're going to do anything interesting any time soon…"

Harry huffed. "You're such a buzzkill, Neville. But I guess you have a point." Internally, however, he was still going over what they'd learned.

 _"Human Transfiguration, huh?"_ he thought. _"I wonder if anyone else in the school is at all powerful enough to do it successfully. Dumbledore, probably. Snape too, maybe, if I can believe any of the rumours the other Hufflepuffs have told me about him."_

He was excited to try it himself, but he knew better than that. It wouldn't do to get expelled on the first day of classes, and he wasn't quite ready to challenge Professor McGonagall — not yet, anyway.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

On the way to the Great Hall for lunch, Harry passed by a painting in the Transfiguration corridor. It wasn't a particularly interesting painting — a simple forest landscape — except for the fact that a small snake was lying curled up in the corner, propped up against a tree and seemingly asleep.

Harry had decided not to reveal to anybody that he could speak to snakes, at least for the time being. He wasn't sure if it even was all that uncommon - for all he knew, lot's of people could do it — but he didn't think it was a particularly Hufflepuff thing to be able to do. Seeing as he was still trying to hide his Slytherin nature, he kept it quiet for now.

When he passed by the painting, however, he saw an opportunity that he simply could not pass up. He was curious whether his snake-talk worked on magical portraits as well, and this was the perfect time to test it.

"You guys go on ahead," he said to the other Hufflepuff boys. "I think I forgot my quill in Transfiguration."

"Want us to come with you?" Justin asked.

"No, it's fine. I'll catch up with you guys in a second."

Harry pretended to walk back to class, while actually hiding behind a nearby pillar. When the boys were well out of sight, he returned to the painting.

 _"Hello, there,"_ he said to the little snake.

The snake raised his head in surprise, before addressing Harry. _"You sspeak?"_ it said.

 _"Yess,"_ Harry replied, glad that it responded. _"Can you tell me a little about yoursself?"_

The snake suddenly froze for a moment, then shook its head. _"I have jusst been told I am not allowed to sspeak to you, Sspeaker. I am ssorry."_

Harry scratched his head in confusion. _"Okay… are there any other snakes in the school I could speak to, instead?"_

The snake shook its head again, more forcefully this , without warning, it retreated into the painting and disappeared into a hole in the earth.

 _"Wait, sstop! Why can't you talk to me?"_ he called after it, but the snake had already gone.

He stood still for a moment, unsure what had caused the snake to flee like that.

At least he now had confirmation that he could talk to more than just actual snakes, but he would have liked to speak to it a little more. He wondered what the snake had meant by not being allowed to speak to him.

He knew he would not get answers to those questions by standing there, though, and decided to catch up with the others.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

Classes after that went off without a hitch, and Harry found himself actually enjoying most of them as the week went on. Astronomy was a little tedious — he didn't think he was going to get used to being up so late — and he didn't care all that much for the subject itself. But Charms was interesting, and Defence against the Dark Arts was riveting. He was especially looking forward to some of the more combat-oriented magic. They had the class together with the Slytherins, just like Transfiguration. He considered sharing a bench with a Slytherin — he'd love to reach out to and make friends in the other houses — but the choice was taken out of his hands when Ernie waved him over to sit with him and Justin.

Herbology was great fun — Harry wasn't actually any good at it, but Neville was, and he was happy to help Harry and show him what to do. Apparently, his family housed multiple greenhouses at their home, and he'd grown up taking care of all sorts of interesting plants.

The end of the week drew near, and there was one class which they had yet to attend. Potions with Professor Snape was allegedly infamous for being one of the toughest subjects, and not just because of the source material. The whispers of the upper years did nothing to alleviate Harry's fear of the man who was supposed to have been his Head of House.

Today was finally the day of their first Potions lesson. It was a double period, and Harry wasn't looking forward to it. And from the look on his face, neither was Goyle.

"We'll be fine, guys," Susan Bones said, trying to lift their spirits. "We're sharing the classroom with Ravenclaw. So there won't be any favouritism toward Slytherin — or _against_ Gryffindor."

"Besides," Hannah Abbott chimed in, "he goes easier on the Hufflepuffs, I heard."

That had Harry calm down a little. Perhaps it wasn't going to be that bad after all. Who knows — maybe he'd even find himself enjoying the class.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

Harry Potter did _not_ enjoy Potions. Snape singled out the "famous Boy-Who-Lived", and asked Harry questions he had to idea how to even begin to answer. When Harry later looked up the answers to those questions in his textbook, he found out they didn't even begin to cover them until the second part of the year — and the man had had the _gall_ to take points from Hufflepuff for it!

"Hey, that's unfair!" Justin spoke up for Harry as he stood up from his workbench. "Those questions aren't even in the first couple of—"

"Sit down, Mr Finch-Fletchley, before you say something that'll make me give you a detention." Snape snarled. Justin sat down and looked at Harry apologetically, but Harry smiled at him. He was grateful the boy had at least tried to stick up for him — Snape just didn't play fair.

Harry's other classmates sent them sympathetic looks. They too knew it was unfair, but there was nothing they could do. It didn't get any better when they got to the actual potion-making. He'd partnered with Zacharias Smith from Ravenclaw, and the boy had to berate him multiple times for not paying enough attention and almost ruining the potion.

"Clockwise Harry, _clockwise_!" he yelled at one point about halfway through the lesson, when their cauldron looked as if it was about to bubble over. "Why is it doing that? It's not supposed to do that!" A few of the students turned to look at them, and Harry blushed.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Did you add anything while I wasn't looking?"

"I — I don't think so?"

"Argh!" the Ravenclaw boy exclaimed in frustration.

Snape had apparently heard the rather loud exchange of words, and came over to check on them.

He threw one look at their Potion, then glared at them. "Which one of you was in charge of slicing the Pungous Onions?"

Smith at least had the decency to look ashamed when he pointed at Harry.

"Tell me, Potter," Snape sneered at him, "what part of "finely sliced" did you not understand?"

"I didn't think it was that important," he mumbled in response.

"Tut tut, Potter," Snape belittled him. "It appears you have no appreciation for the subtler arts of magic. I guess that's a zero for today. Why am I not surprised?" Harry scowled.

Snape then vanished their potion and made them wait the entire rest of the lesson in silence. Smith threw him dirty looks for the entire remaining fifteen minutes of it. Harry couldn't wait to get out — he rushed to the door as soon as the bell rang. Of course, Snape couldn't let him get off that easily.

"Oh, and Potter?"Snape said in a mocking voice, just as he reached for the door handle. "Detention, tonight. Be in my office at seven. Do not be late."

Harry had stormed off in a fury. When he passed another portrait snake on the way to the common room, he didn't even bother trying to talk to it.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

The detention itself wasn't all that bad. Snape had him cleaning cauldrons and scrubbing the workspaces in the classroom, but he'd had to do worse things at the Dursleys. They would make him clean the house top to bottom from time to time while they were gone on vacation. If Vernon found any dust whatsoever, he'd get locked up in his cupboard for a couple of days. Cleaning the Potions lab was a cakewalk compared to that, Harry thought.

Ron and Hermione, for their part, had been furious when he told them at lunch what had happened. They had not experienced Snape firsthand yet and would have their first lesson that very same afternoon, also a double period. Hermione was appalled that a teacher would show such unprofessional behaviour.

"He can't do that!" she shrieked after he'd told them how Snape had given him detention.

"He can, and he did," Harry said with gritted teeth. "I'm horrible at Potions, apparently. I completely screwed it up, and Zacharias Smith got a zero because of me. Maybe Snape will learn me how to not actually mess up next time."

"Blimey Harry," Ron said, "don't tell me you actually think you deserved it the detention."

Hermione scowled. "Surely not. Professor Snape was completely out of line."

Harry sighed. "I was almost looking forward to it, but to have someone like that as a teacher…" he shook his head.

Hermione looked at him sympathetically. Ron just nodded.

"Well, surely there's some other subjects you do like, yeah?" the redhead asked.

"I mean sure, I guess. DADA is pretty fun, and — oh, that reminds me!" He looked up, suddenly excited. He told them how he had been the first one to successfully transfigure his matchstick into a needle the previous Transfiguration lesson, and how Professor McGonagall had told him she'd rarely see someone complete it that quickly and completely. That quickly had him talking about just how much he liked Transfiguration. He didn't even notice how Ron had completely redirected his attention to something more positive.

Now Harry was cleaning Flobberworm mucus from cauldron bottoms, and he was lost deep in thought. He'd been at it for a good while, and he found himself not even being all that upset at Snape anymore. He hadn't helped him understand what he did wrong, but at least he hadn't bothered him during the detention either. He'd simply been grading homework from the upper years at his desk, occasionally mumbling something about dunderheads and common sense.

 _"He's still a stupid git, though."_

At last, after almost an hour and a half of scrubbing, Snape stood up and stalked over to him. He inspected Harry's work, and for a second, Harry almost thought he seemed pleased. Snape made sure to cover his expression before Harry could get a good look, however, so he wasn't sure.

"That will be enough for today," Snape told him. "I trust you will not disappoint me in the future. Please _watch_ what you're actually doing when you're making a potion, for Melin's sake."

"Yes, Professor," Harry simply said.

"Very well. You are dismissed." He then turned and walked back to his desk, while Harry quietly left the classroom and made his way back to the Hufflepuff common room.

⋋(০▿০)⋌


	4. Close Quarters

_Disclaimer: I do not work for J.K. Rowling. I am not associated with J.K. Rowling, nor with Harry Potter, Bloomsbury or anything at all relating to Harry Potter, really. I'm just having fun using another person's world to tell my story, like other Fanfiction writers, as J.K. Rowling is magnanimous enough to let us do. Therefore, please enjoy my story. I do not receive payment for what I write, but your reviews, follows and favourites more than make up for that._

 _\- This chapter has been made possible by the help of my wonderful beta reader N7Krogan -_

* * *

 **HARRY POTTER** **AND THE PAINTING OF JÖRMUNGANDR**

 **Chapter Four: Close Quarters**

⋋(০▿০)⋌

Over the weekend, Harry put in a serious effort to scout out all the different Hogwarts floors in search of more snakes to talk to. He didn't know what had caused the other snake to flee, and he _hated_ not knowing things.

However, no matter how many snakes he talked to, the result was always the same. The snake would regard him for a moment, chuckle softly at his efforts, then disappear further into the painting.

It was early on the Sunday morning in Harry's first week — three paintings and four snakes later — that he finally realised that this wasn't getting him anywhere and he should probably give up for now. Harry had gotten up early to make sure nobody would catch him talking to snakes by accident — he still wasn't sure it was something he should reveal to others. He made a mental note to look that up later and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Once there, it was a miffed Harry who sat down next to Ron and Hermione — he had told the Hufflepuffs he would be eating at the Gryffindor table on occasion.

"You look annoyed," Hermione said.

Harry looked at her before adopting a more neutral expression — he hadn't realised his irritation had shown on his face. _"Blasted snakes,"_ he thought, before addressing Hermione.

"It's nothing, er — I was just thinking back on Snape's detention, is all."

Ron scowled. "Stupid git," he murmured.

Hermione turned hear her a little, but didn't say anything. Harry assumed she agreed with him.

"Oh well," Harry said, changing the subject, "you know all about my first week — how was yours?"

"Pretty good," Hermione said, while at the same time Ron uttered that it was boring. Hermione scowled at him, and Harry laughed.

"Don't get me wrong — it's all pretty interesting, but man, if Binns didn't put me to sleep within the first five seconds."

"There's other classes than just History of Magic, Ron," Hermione admonished him. "I for one found Charms to be extremely interesting."

She went on to talk about how their classes had differed from Harry's — besides Herbology of course, which they shared — and how many points she had already scored by answering questions.

"Oh that reminds me," Harry said after she was done, "we're supposed to be having flying lessons next Friday, right?"

As if a switch had been flicked off, Hermione's good mood instantly evaporated. That was obviously one class she was _not_ looking forward to.

"Oh, yeah!" Ron exclaimed. "Can't wait to try it — Mum barely ever let me fly."

"You know how to fly?" Harry asked him.

"Like I said, barely. I know the basics, I guess."

"Maybe you can teach Hermione, then."

"Eep!" she exclaimed. "I— I'm not sure that would be a good idea. I was never any good at PE, back at home."

"PE?" Ron frowned.

"Physical exercise," Harry replied for her. "Regardless, you should try it, Hermione. I doubt the teacher is going to give you an exemption, anyway."

She slumped in defeat. "I guess you're right."

"Tell you what," Ron said to Hermione, "we've got a free period right before the lesson, so how about I prep you on some of the basics then?"

"You'd do that for me?" Hermione asked.

"Sure. Anything for a friend, right?"

Hermione beamed and nodded.

"You coming too, Harry?" the red-haired boy asked him.

Harry swallowed a mouthful of pumpkin juice before replying, "Can't mate, I've got History of Magic with the other Hufflepuffs then. And I have flying lessons with the Ravenclaws, remember?"

"Darn, I forgot. What time again?"

"Should be just after lunch."

"I guess we'll see you afterward, then," Ron said.

Harry nodded. Just then, a flock of owls entered the Great Hall, flying overhead and delivering letters and parcels to their recipients. The trio continued eating breakfast — they had already gotten used to the daily owl invasion and it wasn't anything special anymore.

Harry looked up, however, when one of the school owls missed his goblet by a hair during its landing, before sticking out its leg to him. Interested, Harry removed the small note that was tied to it and fed the owl a piece of his bacon, which it happily gobbled up.

"What is it?" Hermione inquired as Harry was reading the note.

"It's Hagrid — he asks if I want to come over for tea next Friday after flying lessons."

Ron frowned. "Why not just invite you over today? It's not like you've got anything better to do."

"No, but maybe _he_ does," Harry muttered absent-mindedly, before scribbling a quick reply back and handing it to the owl, who was still waiting for him. It leapt into the air and flew toward the end of the High Table closest to them — the end where Hagrid was sitting. The giant man opened the note and flashed Harry a broad grin and a thumbs up. Harry smiled and waved at him.

"I take it you said yes then?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, of course, Hagrid is great. Do you guys want to come along?"

"Sure," Ron said, but Hermione looked uncertain.

"Oh come on Hermione, he's not that scary. He's super friendly, you'll see."

"Oh, well — alright then. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to go talk to him."

Harry smiled and nodded, then turned back to his breakfast. He did actually wonder what had prompted the one-week delay for the visit.

 _"Hagrid must be really busy this week,"_ he thought.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

Harry walked into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom about fifteen minutes later, after having finished his breakfast. He liked to show up reasonably early and thus not many people were seated yet. Continuing his trend of reaching out to the other houses, he picked his next victim and walked over to their table.

"Good morning," he said, setting his bag on the floor.

Daphne Greengrass looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Can I help you?," she said, just as Harry took out his books and set them on the table. She regarded him silently, not making a move to stop him.

"Yeah, you wouldn't happen to know where I can find an empty spot, would you?"

She smirked. "Well not here anymore, in any case. But sure, you can sit here. If you don't think my sliminess is going to rub off on you, that is."

Harry threw her a knowing smile and stuck out his hand.

"Harry Potter," he said, "pleasure to meet you."

She snorted. "Oh please Potter, get over yourself." She took his hand nonetheless, and shook it.

"Daphne Greengrass, and the pleasure is mine," she said in an almost posh voice. Harry laughed.

Just then, Gregory walked into the classroom. When he spotted Harry and Daphne together, his face contorted into one of confusion, but walked over to them nonetheless.

"Can I sit here?" he asked. The benches did seat three people, after all.

Harry frowned. "You don't have to ask if you can sit next to me, Gregory. We're friends, right?"

He grunted in response, but there was almost some kind of… satisfaction to it. He dropped his bag and sat on the end of the table opposite Daphne, with Harry in the middle.

Theo walked in a few moments later. When he saw the two boys sitting next to Daphne, his eyebrows raised a fraction in surprise. He shrugged and sat down next to Malfoy and Crabbe.

Daphne noticed, but Harry and Gregory didn't.

"Oh, this is Daphne, by the way," Harry introduced the two.

"Hi," she said.

"Gregory," the boy mumbled back.

Daphne turned back to Harry. "So, Potter," she said, "why did you want to sit next to me?"

"Can't I just be a friendly guy to someone I haven't met yet?" he shrugged.

Daphne was about to answer, but at that moment Professor Quirrel walked into the classroom, which had slowly filled up with Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. He flashed them all a tentative smile.

"G-good morning, students!" he exclaimed with clasped hands.

The class muttered a half-hearted greeting in response. Professor Quirrel's smile didn't falter.

"Another l-lesson. Yes, well — t-today you will all be learning the Wand-Lighting charm, _L-lumos!"_ His wand-tip lit up as he spoke the incantation.

Two benches over, Draco leaned over toward Crabbe. _"L-lumos!"_ he whispered with a silly look on his face. Crabbe snickered in response.

Daphne turned to Harry and Gregory and rolled her eyes. "They do that in every class."

Gregory nodded. Harry just eyed the Slytherin duo warily.

They spent the lesson practicing the Wand-Lighting charm at first, and the Wand-Extinguishing charm after that. It was not a complicated charm, but it took some practice to get it right. Too little power and you would not get a light, too much power and you could accidentally burn your wand.

Harry had just gotten the charm down pretty well, when he turned to see if he could help Gregory. To his surprise, the boy's wand lit up only a few seconds after his had.

"Wow, Gregory, great job."

"Thanks," the boy said proudly. "I like this class, it's easier than the others."

About twenty seconds after that, an excited gasp alerted them to the fact that Daphne had succeeded as well.

The other part of the charm was much easier, and at the end of the class all three of them could confidently lighten and extinguish their wand.

The students started packing up, and Harry looked at Daphne. "See you next time, I guess?"

She looked at him appraisingly. "Sure, why not."

As they headed for the door, Harry saw an opportunity. He started walking a little faster to reach his target.

"Why are you going so fast?" Gregory asked, struggling to keep up.

He would get his answer almost immediately, however, when Harry bumped his shoulder into Malfoy rather forcefully upon passing him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Potter?" he yelled.

Harry frowned. "You ought to be careful where you're walking, Mr Malfoy."

"What are you — you're the one who bumped into me!" he shouted indignantly.

"I was? Terribly sorry, I hadn't seen you there."

Malfoy reached for his wand, just as Crabbe made his way toward Harry with an intimidating scowl on his face. His path was blocked by Gregory, much to the other boy's surprise.

"Goyle…?" Crabbe said warily, but Gregory had no intention of backing down.

"Students, please!" Quirrel had finally caught up to them, it seemed. "Fighting is not t-tolerated here at Hogwarts. P-please proceed to your next lesson."

Draco glared at Harry. Crabbe looked at Gregory in betrayal, while Gregory himself looked determined. Harry just smiled. "Of course, Professor. Shall we go, Gregory?"

The boy nodded, still staring at Crabbe. Then he broke eye-contact, and followed Harry out of the classroom.

"What was that, Harry?" he mumbled when they were away from the others.

"Somebody had to show Malfoy that he can't just strut around like he owns the place. I felt like making sure he realised that."

"You know he's going to come after you for that, don't you?"

"I should hope so."

⋋(০▿০)⋌

"Harry, wake up." Ernie shook his shoulder impatiently.

"Hmm? Huh — oh, did I miss anything important?"

"Harry, the lesson is over." Justin said pointedly. Harry saw that he was right: everybody was packing their things, and he was just in time to see Professor Binns leave the class by way of floating through the blackboard. He stretched wildly, then made to pack his bag.

"History of Magic is always so interesting," he thought aloud. Ernie snorted.

"You know, Harry," Justin sighed, "you really ought to pay attention sometimes. It would be pretty embarrassing if you had to redo the year because you failed your History of Magic exam."

Harry smiled. "Thanks for looking out for me Justin, but I think I'll be alright. Besides, when else am I going to have the opportunity for such a great nap?"

Justin threw his eyes toward the ceiling, before leaving the classroom. Harry followed him out, along with Ernie and Gregory.

When they were out the door, Harry found Ron and Hermione there waiting for him.

"Oh, hey guys!" he greeted them. "Were you waiting for us?"

Ron threw a surreptitious glance toward Gregory. "Yeah, of course." Harry had seen him look, but decided not to bring it up right now.

"How was your History of Magic class, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, it was great!"

Hermione beamed. "I knew you would start caring more about—" She was interrupted by Ernie, who couldn't hold his laughter any longer. Harry grinned.

"It really was great, I think that was about the best nap I've ever had!"

Hermione's face instantly turned into one of shock. "Prat!" she said, and whacked his arm. Ron grinned at him.

"So, did you end up getting any good at flying, then?" Harry asked.

Ron glanced at Hermione. "Well, she won't be flying for the Holyhead Harpies any time soon, but at least she won't fall off her broom."

Hermione just huffed. "Let's just go."

After they walked with Ron and Hermione to the courtyard, Harry and the other boys rerouted toward the Hufflepuff common room for a free period. They would be having flying lessons later that day.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

 _"Up!"_ the voices of about twenty students rang throughout the courtyard.

Harry's broom shot straight up into his hand, much to his surprise. He looked up to see Zacharias Smith with his broom in hand as well. The only others who had succeeded in calling their broom to them on the first try were Susan Bones and Padma Patil. Susan smirked at him, and he grinned back.

"Wow, Harry!" said Justin, whose broom had done a sad little flip into the air and then fell straight back down. Ernie, though he did get his broom a little further up, did not get it on the first try either. He looked Harry up and down.

"Gee Harry, where'd you learn that?"

"Er — I don't know, I've never flown before."

"Huh," Justin said.

Goyle, whose broom had not even moved an inch, did not say anything.

 _"Up!"_ Ernie tried again, and this time it reached his hand, though he had to make a grab for it to prevent it from falling down again. He looked at Gregory and his apparent lack of success.

"Don't worry about it, Gregory, we can't all be Quidditch stars."

Harry frowned. He didn't think that was the problem. "The broom's not going to listen if you don't have confidence in yourself, Greg. Put some energy into it." Harry honestly had no clue if that was true, but it seemed to have worked for him.

"Up," the boy grunted, a little less half-heartedly this time. He flinched when the broom actually came off the ground a little bit this time. Then he smiled.

"It moved!"

"There you go," Harry smiled. "Now keep at it."

Madam Hooch came by a few seconds later, helping people call their brooms to them.

Eventually, when everyone was holding their broom (some of their less flying-inclined peers had to pick theirs up by hand), Madam Hooch nodded. She explained how it should be safe for everyone to attempt to hover for a few seconds at her command, and that if everyone listened to her she did not see anything going wrong.

Thirty seconds later, Neville Longbottom was lying in a heap on the ground with a broken wrist. Madam Hooch sighed, then made to help him to his feet and escort him to the hospital wing. She looked at everyone sternly before they walked off, warning them that they were to stay where they were with both feet _firmly_ on the ground.

As soon as she was gone, Zacharias Smith walked over to where Neville had fallen.

"Hey look, poor boy's lost his wand."

Harry sighed. Apparently Madam Hooch had been so concerned with helping Neville that she hadn't seen it lying in the tall grass.

"Great job, Zacharias," Harry said, trying to sound sincere. "Do you want to give that to me? I'll make sure he gets it back later. You might not see him after class, after all."

Smith obviously pretended to look thoughtful, then shook his head. "Nah, I think I'll hang on to it for now. I'll give it back to him myself… probably." Then he smirked.

Harry looked at some of the Ravenclaws behind him, the people he'd seen Smith hang out with and who, Harry assumed, were his friends. They all carried stoic expressions however, obviously not wanting to interfere. Harry scowled.

"Listen here, Smith," he said, dropping all pretence. "Give that back, or I'm going to make you."

Smith laughed. "Oh yeah? And how were you going to do that?"

Gregory walked up to Harry's side and flexed his muscles — which were pretty impressive for an eleven year old — while glaring at Smith.

The Ravenclaw held up both hands in a calming gesture, still holding Neville's wand. "Tell you what," he said, trying to defuse the situation. "I'll race you for it." Then Smith mounted his broom and rose into the air with obvious ease.

Murmurs broke out around the group. Gregory, sensing Harry's growing impatience, put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's not worth it."

"Let's resolve this peacefully, Harry," Justin said. Meanwhile, even Smith's friends were asking him to calm down now.

"Come on, Zach," Padma Patil said. "You're going to get yourself expelled over nothing."

"Just come down man, it's not worth it," echoed Anthony Goldstein.

Smith shook his head. "Come on, Potter. Let's see if you're as terrible at flying as you are at Potions."

That stung. Harry knew it was not the best plan of action, but he was getting fed up by the other boy. Anger for Neville clouding his judgement, he shrugged off Gregory's hand and flew into the air, launching himself straight at Smith.

Smith yelped and pulled up in a panic, obviously not having expected such a direct attack. He was in for another surprise however, because Harry pulled up as well and flew after him with the ease of someone who had been on a broom for years.

Harry continued the chase. Smith looked determined as he flew away from him, but he was catching up fast. When Smith looked behind him, the colour drained from his face. He must have seen the look on Harry's face and realised the boy was not playing around.

"Geez, fine!" he shouted behind him. He clutched one end of Neville's wand, before throwing it as hard as he could towards the Hogwarts walls. It flew in a large arc, and Harry knew it would be a hard catch.

He sped after it as soon as the wand left Smith's hand. It was his only focus as the wind rushed past him, violently ruffling his hair and threatening to tear his robes clean off because of the speed he was going.

When the wand reached the top of its arc and started falling toward the ground, Harry dove down and made to cut it off. The wand would not complete its path however, because the castle walls were in the way. Harry stretched out his arm in determination, now going at a speed that would render him unrecognisable should he make contact with the wall he was headed for. Smith's throw had been a good one, and Harry was sure the wand wouldn't survive the impact. He could not let that happen.

Meanwhile, Smith had returned to the group of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who were now watching Harry's desperate attempt to catch the wand. When Harry was seconds away from the wall, someone screamed in terror.

"Oh my God, he's going to crash!" someone else cried out.

Up in the air, Harry's fingers finally closed around the wand. With all the strength he could muster, he jerked his broom upward to attempt to bring it to a stop. It violently shuddered to a stop inches from the wall.

Back on the ground, the group — including Smith — breathed a collective sigh of relief.

That relief was short lived however, because at that moment a harsh cry pierced the air.

 _"Mr Potter!"_ the sound of Pomona Sprout's voice was heard by all. "Kindly follow me inside, please." She then turned around, not even looking to see if he would.

Harry looked toward his friends solemnly, before drifting toward the ground and dismounting his broom. He pocketed Neville's wand and hurried after the Professor.

When he caught up to her, he tried to apologise. "Professor, I'm—"

"Do you have any idea how reckless that was, Mr Potter?" she cut him off.

"I — yes, but you see—" he shut his mouth as they reached what Harry assumed was Professor Sprout's office. She led him inside and sat down behind the large oak desk.

"Sit down, please."

He did so, then looked at his Head of House reluctantly.

The dumpy woman, who always looked so kind, eyed him with an expression he had not deemed possible of her. "Explain," she simply said.

He told her about what had happened, and what he had done in response. Although she kept looking at him sternly, he could see some of the anger flowing out of her as he told her the whole story.

"I see," she said when Harry finished. "May I have young Mr Longbottom's wand, please? I will return it to him shortly after we are done here."

He gave her the wand. "Professor, I'm sorry for not obeying Madam Hooch's instructions. I only wanted to help."

"Yes, and help you did. Though a little recklessly, if I may add." She sighed. "Very well, Mr Potter, you will not be expelled for this. I appreciate the loyalty you showed in standing up for your friend. It is a credit to your House, truly."

Harry dipped his head in gratefulness. It seemed he would not be going home early, after all.

"I won't even give you detentions," she continued. That had Harry look back up again. "Under one condition."

He eyed her warily. "What condition?"

A glint of excitement entered Professor Sprout's eyes. "I must _insist_ that you try out for the position of Seeker for our House."

Harry ground his teeth. He had been dreading that answer. Ron had told him all about Quidditch, bless his heart, but he simply could not find himself feeling enthusiastic for the sport. When faced with the choice between who knew how many months of detention and trying out for Seeker, he found the answer to be surprisingly easy.

"No," he said simply.

Professor Sprout frowned. "No? You realise that I will assign you detentions if you do not agree, do you not? You could help our House become the contender for the Quidditch Cup it hasn't been in years."

The truth was, Harry had no intentions of signing himself up for rigorous training which would more than likely take up a large chunk of his free time. Between finding out what Hagrid had been up to, juggling his relationships in all four of the Houses and seeing what was up with those darned snakes, he figured he would need all the free time he had.

"I'm sorry, but I really don't like Quidditch all that much," he shrugged.

She looked disappointed for a second, then sighed. "Very well, Mr Potter. I hereby assign you two months of detention, starting tonight. Please meet with me in my office after dinner and I will see what to do with you. That will be all."

Harry nodded dejectedly, then stood up. As he made for the door, Professor Sprout called out to him one last time.

"Mr Potter?" he turned around. "Though I do not agree with the method, I genuinely thank you for saving Mr Longbottom's wand. You did well."

He smiled at her, then left the office. Her compliment took a little of the sting out of the prospect of two months of detentions. He wondered what she'd be having him do. Probably repotting plants, or something.

Ten minutes later in the Hufflepuff common room, he was telling his friends about the punishment that had befallen him. He chose not to tell them about the offer Professor Sprout had given him. They seemed sympathetic, but were glad he had not been expelled. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked down the path to Hagrid's hut, about half an hour after Harry's flying lesson.

"We heard some absolutely preposterous rumours from the Ravenclaws," Hermione said, "but it's complete nonsense, of course. Right, Harry?"

Ron looked at him hopefully, obviously wanting the rumours to be true. "They say you flew so fast they couldn't even see you move."

"Let's wait until we get to Hagrid," Harry said. "I'm sure he'll want to hear this as well."

"What, do you mean what they're saying is _true_?"

"Later, Hermione."

When they finally arrived, Harry knocked on the giant wooden door. It was obviously made to size.

Hagrid opened the door with a wide grin. "Harry! I was wonderin' if yeh were gonna show up!"

"Sorry, Hagrid, something came up. I invited Ron and Hermione to come along, I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not, come in, come in!" he said, and ushered them inside.

They took a seat in the oversized chairs surrounding an oversized table, and Hagrid turned toward the fire.

"I was 'bout ter put the kettle on, would you like a cuppa?"

"Yes please," the trio said in sync.

A minute later, Hagrid sat down at the table. The large chair he had occupied creaked in protest, but it held.

"So, how have yer first weeks o' school bin? No complaints, I hope?"

They shared their stories of class and their impressions of Hogwarts so far, and Hagrid grinned broadly at their enthusiasm. After a while the tea was ready, and as they enjoyed their hot cuppa, the conversation turned to that day's flying lesson.

"Wha' do you mean, flew straight at 'im? Are you out of yer mind?"

"Harry, you don't even know how to fly!" Hermione screeched.

He grinned, and regaled them the whole tale, from his chase with Smith and him throwing the wand, to skidding to a halt inches from the wall, to Professor Sprout calling him into her office. When he was done, Hagrid was looking worried, while Ron and Hermione looked out of their mind with indignation.

"Why would you turn down a chance to become Seeker?" Ron groaned. "First years usually aren't even allowed to have brooms!"

He shrugged. "I don't really like the sport, to be honest." Ron's mouth dropped open.

"Well, I for one think he got off easily. You could have easily been expelled," Hermione said, miffed.

"Forget bein' expelled, yeh could have died, Harry. Tha' was way too reckless, it was."

"Well, it all turned out well enough. Neville's got his wand back, and that's what matters."

His three companions sighed at the statement, obviously all in disagreement. But he would not convince them otherwise, so he decided to change the subject.

"Hey Hagrid, I was wondering… why didn't you just ask me to come over the same day you sent me the note?"

"Ah, well, er — I've bin busy, tha's all. Dumbledore asked me ter help with summat, an' I had no reason not ter."

The trio leaned forward. "What did he need help with?" Hermione asked.

"None of yer business, is what. And don' you think abou' asking the other teachers about it, either."

"So the other teachers are involved as well?" Ron asked eagerly.

Hagrid slapped himself in the forehead. "Nevermind tha', it's nothin' for you ter worry about." He stood up. "Right, it's gettin' pretty close to dinner. Yeh should probably head back ter the castle, right abou' now."

"Hagrid, dinner isn't for another hour," Hermione said in confusion.

He was hearing none of it though, and soon the three of them were outside and heading back to the castle again.

"A secret project that all the teachers are working on, huh?" Ron asked. "Any ideas as to what it could be?"

"No idea," Harry said, "but maybe we're better off not knowing."

Truthfully, he hated not knowing things, but he could not see how this had anything to do with him at the moment. He'd wait out further development before taking any action. If plans needed to be made, he'd deal with it when the time came. For now, he simply put it to the back of his mind as they walked back to the castle for dinner.

⋋(০▿০)⋌


	5. The Witching Hour

_Disclaimer: I do not work for J.K. Rowling. I am not associated with J.K. Rowling, nor with Harry Potter, Bloomsbury or anything at all relating to Harry Potter, really. I'm just having fun using another person's world to tell my story, like other Fanfiction writers, as J.K. Rowling is magnanimous enough to let us do. Therefore, please enjoy my story. I do not receive payment for what I write, but your reviews, follows and favourites more than make up for that._

 **AN:** Hello again everybody, and welcome to chapter 5! This is a chapter I've been very excited about in my outline and I can't wait for you guys to read it. I'm not saying much other than that, please just enjoy it and feel free to leave a review to let me know what you thought of it, whether it be criticism or praise!

* * *

 **HARRY POTTER AND THE PAINTING OF JÖRMUNGANDR**

 **Chapter Five: The Witching Hour**

⋋(০▿০)⋌

The next morning, Harry was ecstatic to hear about Zacharias Smith's punishment. He had received two months of detention, just like Harry had. Unlike Harry, however, who had spent his previous evening helping Professor Sprout repot plants just as he had expected, Smith had apparently been forced to help Argus Filch, the Caretaker, clean the entire Ground Floor of the castle.

"Serves him right!" Ron laughed after Harry told him and Hermione the story at breakfast.

"He really should've gotten expelled," sighed Hermione.

"I can't believe you got two months of detentions for sticking up for Neville, though," Ron scowled.

Harry shrugged. "Detention wasn't all that bad, really. Professor Sprout asked me about Herbology and stuff, and I helped her repot plants. She didn't believe me at first when I told her I really liked the subject."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly a prodigy at it…"

"That's what she said as well," Harry said in between two mouthfuls of eggs. "But you don't necessarily have to be good at something to like it, right?"

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "Wow, that's actually pretty profound."

"Hey, I say smart stuff sometimes!" The other two laughed.

"How often do you have these detentions anyway?" Ron asked.

"Every evening, except weekends." Ron and Hermione groaned. "But at least I'm learning some things about Herbology, right?" he said, trying to stay positive.

"We'll see if you'll keep feeling that way," Hermione said ominously.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

Daphne Greengrass was engrossed in her Potions book that evening in a comfortable armchair in front of the Slytherin fireplace, when a certain boy walked up to her.

"Theo," she smiled.

"Hi Daphne," the boy replied with a smile of his own, then took a seat. "I er — wanted to talk to you about something, actually."

Daphne raised an eyebrow, but laid aside her book nonetheless.

Theo fidgeted for a moment. "It's Potter. I saw you guys sitting together at Defence the other day, and…" he trailed off.

"Are you jealous, Theo?" she replied cheekily. The boy scowled in reply.

"What? No, of course not! You know you're like a sister to me."

"So what's the problem?"

"It's just — he's a _Hufflepuff,_ " he pulled a face as he said it.

She sighed. "Listen here, Theo, you don't dictate who I can or cannot spend my time with."

"That's not it at all," he replied. "There's just something off about him — I just know it!"

"Harry's perfectly normal," she replied with a stony face.

He shook his head. "You'd never befriend a normal Hufflepuff. Something's fishy."

Daphne took her Potions book and stood up. "I'm not talking about this right now. Stop trying to control my life just because you don't like the people I hang out with."

"Daphne!" Theo called after her, but she ignored him and stormed up to her dormitory. "That guy is hiding something!" she could still hear him say, before she slammed the door.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

Most of Harry's time away from his friends was spent on his subjects and in the library, a habit he had picked up after his interactions with the Thornbraths. He smiled when he thought back on the welcoming family and how he had become like a son to them. He couldn't wait to see them again next summer.

He was surprised how quickly the weeks passed — perhaps it was the increased focus on his studying — and soon September passed, and eventually, so did October.

Harry awoke on the morning of Hallowe'en feeling somehow reluctant. He was not very fond of the holiday, because it was the day that his parents had been murdered. And for some reason, bad things always seemed to happen on the 31st of October. When Harry was 7 years old, Marjorie Dursley had come to visit for Hallowe'en. She had set her dog Ripper loose upon Harry, and when he tried to escape he stumbled and broke his leg. Harry had been furious — but not surprised — when the Dursleys got _upset_ with him for having to take him to the hospital.

When he was 9, the Dursleys had taken Dudley to a special Hallowe'en themed fair during the day, after which Dudley went trick or treating with his friends while the Dursleys enjoyed an evening in the park — Harry had been forced to stay at home, alone. Mrs Figg was away and there was no time to get a babysitter. Normally Harry would not mind being home alone at all, but it just so happened that the power went out at some point during the afternoon. It did not come on again the entire day, and thus Harry could not do the things he enjoyed most like watching shows on the Dursleys' television and playing on Dudley's computer. He had had to spend the entire day wandering around the house eating the few crackers the Dursleys had left for him. He had been miserable.

This was why Harry was strongly contemplating just staying in bed this morning. Maybe bad things would not happen if he was not there to experience them. He was sure that was wishful thinking, though, so got up anyway.

The first thing he and the other Hufflepuffs noticed upon exciting the common room was the _amazing_ smell of baking pumpkin that permeated through the entire castle. It stayed the entire day.

That day, Professor Flitwick announced that he would finally teach them how to make objects fly. Harry spent most of the lesson looking — laughing — at the antics between Ron and Hermione.

"If you say something about my pronunciation one more time I'm going to stick this feather where the sun doesn't shine," Ron complained at one point during the lesson. Hermione shrugged and made a point to levitate her feather all the way to the ceiling. Ron groaned in desperation.

At the end of the lesson, Harry finally managed to make his feather fly as well. Not all the way to the ceiling, mind you, but he was one of the few people that actually got his feather off the table.

"Nice one Harry," Justin said, clapping him on the shoulder. Harry grinned.

"You too!" he said, for Justin had also managed to lift his feather into the air.

"Don't look so sullen Greg, I'm sure we'll get it soon as well," Ernie said to the boy that was staring so intently at his feather Harry was sure it was about to run away. Gregory just shrugged his telltale shrug.

"You sure shrug a lot Greg, did you know that?"

Gregory shrugged.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

Harry was just on his way back to the common room when a snide voice coming from the corridor up ahead interrupted his thoughts.

"Not so powerful when little Potter isn't here, are you?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise — the voice was talking about him. He decided to go check it out.

As soon as he turned the corner, his throat went dry. He was looking at the back of Draco Malfoy, who had his wand pointed at someone wrestling with Crabbe. It was Gregory. The two large boys were struggling to get the upper hand over each other.

"What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" Harry said sharply. The boy whirled around on the spot, and even Gregory and Crabbe stopped to look. Gregory looked relieved to see him.

"Potter!" Malfoy spat. "Come to get your arse kicked, have you?"

"Let Gregory go," he said firmly.

"There are some things he and I need to discuss."

"He doesn't want to work for you anymore, end of story."

Malfoy scowled. "Bet you loved taking him away from me, didn't you? Perfect little Potter — now with a bodyguard of his own!"

"I consider Gregory a friend. Unlike your twisted relationship with monkey man, over there." Crabbe looked menacingly and rolled up his sleeves.

"Crabbe, go teach Potter a lesson."

Gregory would not allow him to do that, however, and attempted to stop him.

 _"Colloshoo!"_ Draco exclaimed. A bolt of light struck Gregory and and a green goo appeared around his feet. They were stuck to the ground, and he could no longer detain Crabbe. The large boy started making his way toward Harry, but he had picked up some spells of his own.

 _"Locomotor Wibbly!"_ Harry shouted, causing Crabbe's legs to collapse from under him. The boy dropped to the floor, allowing Harry to focus his attention on Malfoy, who had already begun to cast another spell.

After that, everything happened in a blur. Harry and Malfoy started casting at each other, and jets of light were flying through the air. A few moments later, more spells joined them as Gregory and Crabbe tried casting some spells of their own. Most of the spells missed, and this lasted for all but about 20 seconds before they were interrupted.

"What is the meaning of this?!" cried Professor Flitwick, cancelling the flying jinxes and hexes. The four boys immediately turned toward the small figure.

"Professor Flitwick—" Harry began.

"Fighting in the corridor, how preposterous!" he said indignantly. "Ten points from Slytherin and Hufflepuff both, and be happy it isn't more." He dispelled the jinxes on both of them — Harry had leeks sprouting from his ears, and Malfoy was dancing uncontrollably — and sent them an angry glare. "Now hurry along, and don't let me catch you like that again!"

The four of them quickly dispersed, Gregory joining Harry on his way to the common room.

"Thanks," the boy simply said.

"Don't mention it," Harry replied.

"I hate how I wasn't able to do anything."

Harry looked at him. "It's not your fault."

"Yes it is — you started spewing out spells like it was nothing, and you have only been in the Wizarding World for like two months. I want to be able to be that good." Gregory's face turned into one of determination. "I will become that good, Harry, I swear it. I don't want to be such a burden anymore."

"You're really not a—" Harry started.

"I'll teach the stupid blonde jerk to stop messing with my life." They reached the common room, and he turned to face Harry. "Will you help me?"

There was only one logical answer he could give, really.

"Of course."

⋋(০▿০)⋌

The Hallowe'en Feast was amazing, just as expected. The floating candles were accompanied by huge, red-eyed floating pumpkins all throughout the hall. All the teachers were in attendance, and the House tables were packed. Ron and Hermione joined Harry, Justin, Ernie, Gregory and Neville at the Hufflepuff table for the feast, and they spent all of it chatting about fun things while enjoying all the fatty foods stuffed on oversized golden plates all over the table.

Stuffed chicken, crispy golden fries, all kinds of savoury dishes and whatnot, and of course — lots of pumpkins prepared in all kinds of manners. For dessert, cakes in all shapes and sized appeared before them, as well as macaroons, crepes, tiramisu, more flavours of ice cream than Harry could count, and more. When all was said and done, and Harry had eaten so much he felt like he might explode, the students happily returned to their dormitories to enjoy a well-deserved night of sleep.

"Good night guys," Justin called out after the lights were off.

A few scattered 'good nights' were returned by Harry, Gregory and Neville. Ernie was already fast asleep, not even having bothered to take off his clothes due to the exhaustion.

Harry put on his pyjamas and got into bed as well. He was glad. Today had been a fantastic day, all things considered. He had successfully levitated a feather, he had earned points in Transfiguration again by performing a transformation faster than anyone else in the class, and he had eaten himself round at the most wonderful feast ever. And if you did not count the incident with Malfoy — which had not been all that bad — then nothing terrible had even happened that day.

Yes, Harry would sleep well tonight. It seemed like he had finally been able to enjoy Hallowe'en for the first time in his life without anything happening.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

 _Click-clack, click-clack._

Harry rolled over in his sleep.

 _Click-clack, click-clack._

Harry pulled his pillow over his head unconsciously to block out the strange noise.

 _Click-clack, click-clack._

Harry Potter sat up, annoyed. _"What the heck is that noise?"_ he wondered. He groggily snatched his wand off his nightstand and lit the tip. He held it to the small brass-encased clock next to where his wand had been.

11:58.

 _Click-clack, click-clack._

He sighed and stowed his wand away, before returning to his blankets and attempting to fall asleep again.

 _Click-clack, click-clack._

The noise was not helping, but almost a minute later he was close to entering the realm of the unconscious once more. Until he was abruptly awoken again, this time by a very different sound.

 ** _"ATTENTION TO ALL STUDENTS — GATHER IN YOUR RESPECTIVE COMMON ROOMS IMMEDIATELY!"_**

The thunderous voice rang throughout the castle with an obvious air of urgency. It was the voice of Albus Dumbledore. All five of them were up instantaneously.

"What the—!"

"W-what's going on?" said Neville.

"Heck if I know!" Ernie replied.

"Come on, let's do what he said!" Harry said, staring at the clock that had turned over to twelve o' clock just as he was watching.

Together they made their way down the stairs and into the common room, where dozens of students were already waiting in their pyjamas. Everybody was talking and shouting and the prefects were trying to get people to calm down.

"Everything is going to be alright — please contain yourselves!" The plea for silence had no effect.

"Everybody _shut up!_ " 5th-year prefect Josephine Merryweather shouted, supported by a few loud cracks from the end of her wand. The students that had gathered quickly went silent.

"Now," she continued, "I have no idea what is going on either. But until we get more information, us prefects are in charge of you lot. So stop making our jobs harder and shut it for few moments while we try to figure this out, will you?"

The students continued talking, but in more subdued and quiet tones this time. That seemed to be enough for the female prefect, who went to talk to her colleagues.

"What do you think is going on?" Justin asked Harry.

"No clue, but it can't be good. How did Dumbledore talk to all of us like that?"

"I imagine he is keyed into the castle," came the reply from Ernie. "He can probably do lots of stuff like that.

"H-he is the Headmaster, after all."

Just when they were starting to wonder when they would receive new instructions, the voice returned.

 _"This is your Headmaster speaking. I apologise to you all for waking you, but it appears that the school is under attack by a clutter of Acromantulas."_

Most of the students started screaming, but the voice talked right over them.

 _"I need all of you students to stay_ calm _. If you panic, you will only increase the danger for yourself and others. The Acromantulas are now all over the halls and we do not know if they will attempt to enter the common rooms, but we cannot take the risk."_

Harry suddenly realised the source of the strange noise he had been hearing just minutes earlier.

 _"It is for this reason that I ask of you the following: please make your way to the Great Hall under the protection of the prefects and older students. 6th-years and 7th-years, please join the prefects in making a protective boundary around the other students. Do not let any of them out of your sights. The halls have been filled by a thick mist that I have cast, to shield you from the vision of the Acromantulas as much as possible. Move now, and make your way to the Great Hall. Please take care."_

Panicked voices rose up throughout the common room once more, and Merryweather had to shoot off another round of cracks from her wand to get everybody to calm down.

"You heard Dumbledore — stay near us and we will protect you!"

Another prefect — a 6th-year named Gabriel Truman — spoke up to help her. "A few of us prefects and upper years will exit the common room shortly. Please follow us as soon as you can, but be careful not to run each other over. Once we are in the halls, please make sure to stay close to your friends and in the middle of the group. Upper years, please take care to ensure no students are on the outside of the group."

After Gabriel said that, he was the first person to exit the common room. A few prefects and upper years joined him, and then suddenly all the students starting pouring out behind them. Harry and the other Hufflepuff boys were somewhere in the middle of the pack.

"This is absolutely mental," Harry said.

"Acromantulas in a school…" Gregory shook his head disbelievingly.

"I-I don't like s-spiders…" Neville cried. Justin slung an arm around his shoulders.

"Stay close and we'll be fine, yeah?" he smiled. Neville nodded.

When they stepped into the hallway, a thick fog was awaiting them, like Dumbledore had said. It seemed almost solid, and Harry could not see more than three people ahead of him.

"Stay close," he said to Neville, who nodded. The others all huddled around him.

When all of them stood in the hallway, a prefect indicated the front row — the people that would be leading them to the Great Hall — to light their wands.

And thus they were off. Slowly, they made their way up the staircase and into the Entrance Hall. Harry could see the bright and respectively red, blue, yellow and green glows emanating from the hourglasses that carried the gems representing each House's amount of house points. The hourglasses stood on each side of the Great Hall doors. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw to the left, and Hufflepuff and Slytherin to the right.

Of course, the Hufflepuff common room was the closest to the Great Hall out of any of the common rooms. They were the lucky ones, the other three Houses had a much longer journey ahead of them. Harry silently hoped that Ron and Hermione would be alright.

As soon as they reached the top of the staircase, they were greeted by Professor Sprout and Professor Sinistra.

"Thank goodness, you're here," Professor Sprout sighed. "Prefect Truman, are all of the students with you?"

"Yes ma'am, we did a headcount three times to be sure."

"Very good, very good. Please escort the students into the Great Hall immediately. We're going to go and help out the others, in that case." He nodded and Professor Sprout and Professor Sinistra left into another hallway (Harry assumed they did anyway, since he could not actually see that far ahead).

The group made their way forward, and at the entrance to the Great Hall they were greeted by Professor Babbling — the teacher for Study of Ancient Runes — and Madam Hooch. The hawk-like yellow eyes bore of the latter bore into them upon their approach.

"Good, Hufflepuff made it. Get inside, quickly—" she was interrupted by screams from the back of the group. Harry's face turned white as a sheet, and he turned around. Professor Babbling and Madam Hooch ran toward the back immediately.

Harry's worst fears were confirmed when he saw, not the outline of a giant beast — the fog was too thick for that — but the reflection of light in eight huge, black eyes, pointed toward the group. With the appearance and disappearance of spells the eyes seemed to fade in and out of existence. Finally, the two Professors seemed to have made their way toward the back of the group.

 _"Arania Exumai!"_ Harry heard Professor Babbling shout through the screams of the other students, followed by another spell by Madam Hooch. That seemed to have incapacitated the beast, for shortly after the noise started to die down.

"Get into the Great Hall, _now!_ " Madam Hooch shouted at them. They did what she said. The group started moving again and they finally entered the giant double doors to their safety.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

The next hour passed very slowly. Inside of the Great Hall they were awaited by Madam Pomfrey, Madam Pince and Argus Filch.

The four tables for the four Houses were all gone, replaced by rows upon rows of sleeping bags. They were encouraged to go back to sleep, but nobody wanted to sleep and everybody wanted to know what had happened and if the others were coming back. Besides, it was near-impossible to go to sleep with the amount of noise they were making.

The first to make it back, aside from the Hufflepuffs, were the Slytherins. They were located in the dungeons — not as close as they had been, but much closer than the couple floors up that Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were.

Harry saw Malfoy strutting into the Great Hall in the middle of the pack from where he was sitting on his sleeping bag. He and the other Hufflepuff boys had chosen to set up camp at the sleeping bags where their House table used to be, just like most of the other Hufflepuffs.

Malfoy looked around, and caught Harry's gaze. He sneered, and Harry glared right back. Then, the blonde boy broke eye contact, and resumed his walk to the sleeping bags near where the Slytherin table normally was.

⋋(০▿০)⋌

After waiting for more than forty minutes since they had entered the Great Hall — the Slytherins had been back for about twenty minutes — Harry was a bit fed up with doing nothing. He stood up from his sleeping back and patted his pyjamas.

"Where are you going?" Gregory asked.

"Just going to see if any of the authority figures will tell me anything," he replied. "Want to come?"

Gregory visibly managed to control himself and not shrug. "Sure," he said instead.

They walked across the Hall to where the three staff members were. Harry opted not to talk to Madam Pince or Filch, and went for the safer option instead.

"Hello, Madam Pomfrey," he said.

"Hello there, Mr Potter, Mr Goyle. What can I do for you this wretched evening?" she smiled sarcastically.

Harry smiled as well. "It's been a rough night."

"You can say that again…" Madam Pomfrey sighed. "I just wish we would have heard something by now. It's taking awfully long for the other two Houses to come here."

"Well, they do have to come from up high, after all. Gryffindor from the 7th floor and Ravenclaw from the 5th, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Quite right. Teams have been sent out to retrieve them, though, much like for yourself and for Slytherin."

"Who's been sent out for who?" Harry only knew about Professor Sprout and Professor Sinistra, but he didn't much care for Slytherin.

"Well, the teams consist of the Head of House and one more teacher — except Professor Snape, and—"

"Wait, what's Professor Snape doing?" Gregory cut in.

Madam Pomfrey's face turned sour, as if she had bitten into a lemon. "I have been told Professor Snape and Professor Quirrel are currently scouring the castle, and Headmaster Dumbledore is as well."

Harry and Gregory looked at each other. Two of the most shady teachers running around the school uninhibited? That didn't sound good.

"What about the others?"

"Professor McGonagall has been joined by Hagrid to look for the Gryffindor students, and Professor Flitwick has been joined by Professor Kettleburn—"

"Who?" Gregory asked. Harry kicked him surreptitiously. The High Table blocked their legs from view and she did not notice. Gregory looked at him, then back at Madam Pomfrey. She raised an eyebrow at him, but thankfully continued talking. Harry needed this information.

"The Care of Magical Creatures Professor. Anyway, those two are looking for the Ravenclaw students. I'm sure they are fine, but I can't shake the feeling…"

"They'll be here soon, Madam Pomfrey, I'm sure of it." Harry said.

The matron smiled. "I'm sure you are right, thank you Mr Potter." He inclined his head.

"Do you know anything about the Acromantulas in the school? How did they even get inside?"

"I'm afraid I have no idea," she said sadly. "They have not told us either."

 _"Drat,"_ Harry thought.

"Regardless, you are all safe here and I'm sure Headmaster Dumbledore will have this sorted out in no time. In the meantime, please do not be afraid."

The two boys smiled back at her. Just as Harry was about to respond, the doors to the Great Hall swung open, and the Ravenclaw contingent stormed in.

Madam Pomfrey stood up immediately, visibly relieved that the next group had finally made it. That relief changed to horror very quickly.

 _"Help!"_ someone from the group shouted. "Please, someone help him!"

Madam Pomfrey rushed toward them immediately. Harry and Gregory followed.

When they reached the Ravenclaws, their eyes were met by a horrible sight. A Ravenclaw third-year that Harry did not recognise was getting carried by two others, and he was in bad shape. He had bite marks all over the side of his body, with a mixture of blood and venom running out of the wounds. He was quickly losing blood, but not just from that. Aside from the bite wounds, his entire upper right arm and hand seemed to have been ripped clean off.

Some people were looking a little green, and Harry himself was swaying. This was very bad.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to think so as well, and starting immediately shouting instructions. "Everybody please make a large circle — give him some space!" She then conjured a large hospital bed and levitated the boy onto it, making sure to keep his arm raised as to prevent more blood from spilling out. The boy was already unconscious.

She charmed his arm in place, then worked to cut off the stream of blood. Harry watched her work in amazement. Within minutes she had sealed off his bleeding arm, administered the antidote to the Acromantula venom and closed all of his bite wounds. After that, she seemed to think he was out of danger. She addressed the group of people that had swarmed around her but left an empty circle between them and the bed.

"I have administered him blood-replenishing potions. He is stable for now, but I will have to continue working on him. Please do not bother me while I do so unless there is an emergency."

"Will you be able to regrow his arm?" one of the Ravenclaws, a girl, asked.

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips. "I'm afraid not," she said eventually. "Acromantulas are classified as XXXXX-type creatures by the Ministry, and the wounds they inflict are cursed. I saved him from the bite marks — though he will have scars — but I can't do anything about the arm."

The Ravenclaw girl started crying, then left. She was obviously having a hard time with the recent developments.

 _"And who wouldn't?"_ Harry thought. _"This is absolutely mad… who would let those Acromantulas loose in the school?"_

"Right, as I said please do not bother me while I continue working on this young fellow. Try to get some sleep, students." She conjured four curtains from the Hospital Wing and positioned them around the bed, disallowing anyone to take a look at what was now happening to the boy.

Realising that his expedition was now over, Harry turned to Gregory. "Shall we go back to the others?"

Gregory nodded and Harry took a look at his pale face. He was obviously a bit shaken up as well.

As they were walking back to the Hufflepuffs, the Great Hall doors opened yet again. Harry and Gregory turned around expectantly and indeed, the Gryffindors had finally made it. Dozens of students in red-trimmed robes started filing into the Hall, followed by the eight teachers that had been out to seek them and the other houses.

Harry picked Ron and Hermione out of the crowd — which wasn't hard due to Ron's flaming red hair — and immediately rushed over to them.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, being the first to see him. She rushed out of the crowd and swept him into a hug.

Harry didn't know how to respond. "Er — hi, Hermione. Good to see you too." He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder.

"Harry! I'm so glad you're safe, mate." Ron said. Hermione released Harry from the hug, allowing him to hug Ron in turn.

"Likewise, that was scary as heck. We were the first ones back, we've been waiting on you for like an hour and a half now."

Gregory nodded at Ron and Hermione, who nodded back somewhat amiably.

"Do you want to sleep near us?" Harry asked. "There's sleeping bags everywhere — I don't think they'll mind very much."

"Yes, please." Hermione said. "I think I could use some friends around me for tonight."

"That goes for all of us," Ron agreed.

They finally made their way back to the other Hufflepuffs, who greeted Ron and Hermione enthusiastically, before turning on Harry and Gregory.

"What the heck happened to that Ravenclaw, guys?" Justin said. Ernie nodded his head vigorously, and Neville was obviously interested as well.

"What happened?" Ron asked.

So Harry and Gregory started explaining what had happened — Harry talked most of the time — and quickly the horror was showing on their faces.

"That's terrible!" Hermione exclaimed with tears in her eyes.

"H-he lost… his hand?" Justin stammered. All of their faces were drained of colour.

They were pulled out of their thoughts by the appearance of a giant ball of flame at the back of the hall, with Fawkes perched on top of it. When it disappeared, it left Dumbledore seated in his giant throne.

Dumbledore stood up, and as soon as he did, every single student and member of staff — except perhaps the boy in the makeshift medical bay and Madam Pomfrey — fell silent and turned to look at him.

"Students," he called out amiably, and spread his arms. "This night has been a taxing one, we all know it. I wished to welcome you all and assure you that everything is being done to remove the creatures from our school. Know that within the Hall you will be safe at all times. Teachers will be patrolling inside and outside — your safety is paramount. For now, please try to get some sleep. Thank you."

It was telling to see Dumbledore so serious as he was, and nobody dared disobey him. Soon all of them were in their sleeping bags. Dumbledore had already left again, undoubtedly to fight off the Acromantulas.

After another twenty minutes of chatting amongst each other, the teachers dimmed the lights across the Hall, leaving them in an uncomfortable darkness.

Harry did not stay up for much longer after that. He wanted to know who was responsible, but he would not get his answers tonight. He vowed that he would seek out the information tomorrow.

For now, though, his face sought the comfort of his pillow. Not long after, he returned to the land of the unconscious at last.

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